


If There Is a Chance

by Mondax



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-03-06 18:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18856441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mondax/pseuds/Mondax
Summary: Inspired by tumblweed's fic Transhumance, the story picks up almost 59 years later as Delphine's daughter goes to Wyoming to meet Cosima to fulfill a promise she made to her mother. Please read Transhumance first before reading this.





	1. August 24, 2016

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Transhumance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794386) by [tumblweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumblweed/pseuds/tumblweed). 
  * Inspired by [Transhumance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794386) by [tumblweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumblweed/pseuds/tumblweed). 



> Hello!
> 
> I'm a longtime OB fan and when re-watching the series made me miss the show more, I turned to fan fiction to get my OB fix. I've read (and I'm still reading) a lot of awesome OB fanfics here, but tumblweed's fic Transhumance is the one that really stuck with me. It inspired me to write this muddled piece as some sort of homage and thanks to the author for sharing the story. At the same time, I wanted to share how it ends in my head. 
> 
> Please read Transhumance first before reading this -https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794386/chapters/10972250
> 
> The story would have at least 11 chapters and I'm posting the first five now. This will be updated weekly barring any personal and work issues. Kudos, comments, suggestions are most welcome.
> 
> Again, to tumblweed, thank you very much for the words. Here's to hoping you're well and still giving writing a go. :)

The digital clock on the dashboard just ticked 6:15 when I opened another can of coffee. While going for a drive has always been my go-to response whenever I need some time alone to think and get some headspace, this drive is different. Despite that, the trip so far from Vancouver to Wyoming in my old Subaru Forester has been giving me plenty of time to think, remember, and talk to myself – things I normally seek during my usual afternoon or midnight drives. But now, these just highlight the reality that this is perhaps the saddest road trip of my life - one I never imagined to take, much more want. Even so, something about traversing open roads with a full tank of gas and the sun rising on the horizon made me feel calm about the trip and the reason behind it.

Besides, I am not really alone on this drive. Maman is with me, safely buckled to the passenger seat. I imagine that she’s enjoying the view and hoping for a good song to play on the radio, something French or something from her time. We are making good headway along the I-90 after making a stop and sleeping at Missoula for the night. A 24-hour diner served up a filling breakfast and a steaming cup of coffee, which were enough to jolt me for the remaining eight hours of this trip to Buffalo, Wyoming.

If you asked me a year ago what Buffalo, Wyoming means to me, I would have said that Buffalo is nothing but a footnote in my life. Yes, I was born there and I spent the first two years of my life in a small house down its main road, but apart from vague memories of playing in the park and afternoons spent blowing dandelions with Maman on our front porch, the place offered no significant, life-altering memories for me. For most of my life, I assumed that my parents shared the same sentiment: that Buffalo was just a short layover before their real lives that are filled with cherished memories and experiences started.

But that was a year ago, before Maman’s illness; before she slowly became nothing but a hollow shell of herself; before I got to know Maman not just as _Maman_ but as _Delphine Cormier_. It’s ironic, how I began to get to know my own mother better when she began losing huge chunks and memories of her life on an almost-daily basis. But until the very end, Maman managed to hold on to Wyoming, the Summer of 1957, and Cosima Niehaus.

Cosima Niehaus.

If you asked me a year ago who my Maman’s greatest love is, I would have uttered Papa’s name, Christophe Moulin, in a heartbeat. Looking back now, while I never doubted my Maman’s loyalty to Papa, I realized as I got older that something is missing – as if there is a part of my Maman that she has never given to Papa. I couldn’t put a finger on it at first, but as I got older and more experienced – and along with what I have known about Maman’s life - it was clear that what was missing was her heart. After all, how can you give someone something that you’ve already given and reserved to someone else? The past year has made me realize that from the beginning of the Summer of 1957 until the day she took her last breath, my mother's heart belonged to Cosima Niehaus - the mountains of Wyoming serving as a silent witness to their love.

I push these thoughts aside as I pass by the _“Welcome to Wyoming”_ sign to look for a place to have lunch. Suddenly in the mood for a decent cup of coffee after having to make do with canned and overly-sugared ones for hours, I made a stop at a charming little coffee shop in Ranchester where I paired an espresso with a cold lamb sandwich and a banana crepe. With the coffee, sandwich, and dessert gone, I feel rejuvenated enough to get me through the last leg of my drive.

Back on the road again, try as I may to not think about why I am in Wyoming, I can’t help but feel for Maman who loved and longed for someone for most of her life for so long. Selfishly, I realized how lucky I am, how easy I got it - that I am able to lead a life with the woman I love until the day we die.

Before my emotions got the best of me, I see the signage of what would be my home for the next seven days - The Historic Occidental Hotel. I would have been happy staying in your usual, garden-variety motel, but Gabi - my wife - insisted on The Occidental. _"Babe, you have history in Wyoming, so why don't you stay somewhere historical, get to know your roots more,_ " she reasons. I park by the hotel's entrance and unbuckle Maman’s urn before the hotel's valet approach my car.

“ _Are you checking in Ma’am or just here for drinks or to meet someone?_ ” the valet asked.

“ _Checking-in,”_ I reply. _“I’m Lyra Cormier-Smith and I have a reservation._ ”

The valet gives me a respectful smile as he checks for my name in his guest records tucked in a blue clipboard folder. Shortly, he calls over a bellhop to help me with my luggage. I alight from my car clutching on to my Maman as I make my way to the hotel’s reception. While filling in my guest details, I couldn’t help but notice that the receptionist – a young woman with auburn hair in her mid-20s with a name tag that says she’s _“Coley”_ – kept looking at the urn I placed on her desk. Realizing that I’ve sense her mild discomfort, she offered me a meek “ _I am sorry for your loss, Miss Smith._ ” I nod and give her a curt smile as she hands me my room key.  

 A flight of stairs later, I enter my room and was pleasantly surprised. The room my wife got for me is quaint with red brick walls surrounding a window with a view of a creek, and wallpapered to evoke the days of yore. Opposite the queen bed, a green double door hides the bathroom with a clawfoot tub. As the bellhop drops off my luggage, I sat on a rocking chair by the window and put the urn on top of a small breakfast table. I then fished for my phone in my bag to call my wife who picks up after a couple of rings.

 

_"Hi babe, where are you?!?"_

_"Hi babe, I just got here. The room is interesting, thank you. How are you?"_

_"Good, I'm good. I just got home myself - there was a faculty meeting right after my 2 p.m. class. Might get something delivered for dinner. How was your drive?"_

_"It was okay but I have lost track of how many times I switched radio stations. Forgetting the AUX cord was a mistake - a Justin Bieber song plays every hour. He seems out to hunt me. Or haunt me."_

Gabi gives off a slight chuckle, _"I'm pretty sure you can buy one somewhere near. By the way, your child called - said something about finishing his field school interviews for his thesis, says sorry for missing most of his summer break with us. The brat is coming back here in a couple of days though and he's bringing a girl for us to grill - Andi."_

_"Hey he's you child too!"_ I say. _"Lory never brought someone home with him. This must be serious, oui?"_

_"Yeah, I think so. I miss you, babe. You sure you don't need me there with you now? I’m sure Lory wouldn’t mind flying alone to Wyoming."_

_"I miss you too. And I love you for offering to come with me and be here earlier, but I must do this alone for now. I promised. I’ll call you as soon as it’s all set so you guys can fly in here."_

_"Okay babe, if you need me, just tell me and I'd take the first flight to Buffalo. I love you, eat something, and get some rest."_

_"I will. I love you too."_

 

After the call, I pick up the urn and put it in the dresser. Even given everything I came to know about Maman in the past year, the urn she meticulously requested puzzles me. Mystery or not, I did appreciate the fact that unlike other families who didn't know what to do when a loved one dies, Maman was very specific about her arrangements - this simple black urn with an engraving of the constellation Orion sans his shoulder included.

Before closing the dresser, I take one good look at Maman’s urn and let out a tired sigh. _"Je vais tenir ma promesse, Maman,"_ I whisper with all the sincerity I could muster after my long trip.


	2. July 23, 2016

I have seen my fair share of hospitals and wards in my life. After all, it comes with the territory of being an immunologist and a clinician. Before taking a teaching and research job at UBC in Vancouver, I worked for the WHO, mainly to help hospitals all over the world deal with quarantine procedures and contamination protocols. While doing this, I realized that one thing that all hospitals may have in common is notoriously bad coffee. Whether I was in a poor hospital in a more dangerous part of the world, or in a hospital in a first world country, there seemed to be an absence for a source of a nice cup of coffee within hospital walls.

My work travels may have failed to yield such places, but I was pretty sure there are hospitals out there that dish out a killer cup of coffee. This hunch was confirmed a couple of nights ago when a tip from a well-meaning night-shift nurse led me to an ordinary-looking vendo machine near the 5th floor stairwell. It’s really ironic how I now find myself sipping and even enjoying a strong, hot, and texture-filled cup of coffee down the hall where my Maman is waiting out what seems to be the few remaining moments of her life.

I haven’t left the hospital since Maman was taken here. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s last year but what brought us here are her failing kidneys. She was undergoing dialysis every week and was restricted to a very strict renal diet, but three days ago, nobody managed to wake her up from her after-treatment nap. She’s been unconscious ever since.

Even if I am armed with the scientific and pragmatic knowledge that this is it for her, I wanted to be awake just in case she does wake up. I’m not ready to let go of her just yet – after all, there is still so much I want to say and ask her, so I make a conscious effort every day to shun all my medical knowledge aside in the hopes for a miracle. In my warped and sleep-deprived but overly-caffeinated head, the presence of good hospital coffee - which I consider to be a mini-miracle of sorts given my work experiences, is a sign that Maman will wake up, even if it’s likely that she wouldn’t recognize me when she does. As I ponder whether I should get another cup, a doctor and a nurse hurriedly approached me.

“ _Dr. Cormier-Smith, please come with us,_ ” the doctor – who I recognize to be the junior resident assigned to Maman – said.

As we sprint towards Maman’s room, I am preparing for the worst and my mind suddenly shifts to logistics – that I should call Gabi right away so she can call Lory and arrange for an earlier flight home for him. That I should call the artist customizing Maman’s urn and ask when it will be ready. That I should have organized all of Maman’s belongings so I can keep them properly. That I should have called Cosima Niehaus so she can at least say goodbye.

“ _Lyra?_ ” Maman said weakly but audible enough for me to hear when I got to the room to reach out for her.

“ _She’s not only awake, she’s also lucid,_ ” Dr. Wagner – my mom’s junior doctor, informs me. “ _We’ll have to run some labs to see what’s really going on._ ” Dr. Wagner then discreetly instructs the nurse to order several tests as they head out of the room.

I stroke Maman’s hair as she’s trying to figure out what’s happening and why I am crying. She looks around the room and stops to gaze at the black notebook I was reading prior to my coffee run. “ _You found my journals?_ ” she said with a hint of surprise in her eyes and voice.

“ _Yes, Maman. I’ve been reading them ever since you told me about them._ ”

Maman bit her lower lip and went silent at what I said. Tears have begun to form at the corner of her eyes. Sensing that I should say something now before I never have another chance, I said “ _thank you for telling me about them. I have gotten to know you more and…_ ”

She cuts me off. “ _I am sorry, Lyra. I know it’s unfair to you ma chère, but I tried to love your Papa. I just didn’t have any more love to give him because I have given it all to Cosima. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t deny her._ ”

“ _I love you more for letting me understand you more, Maman,_ ” I said while reaching out to hold her hand. “ _You have nothing to be sorry for. I am the one who feels sorry. I wish that you could have had a life for all the world to see where you could have given Cosima all your love and where you can receive all her love back._ ”

Maman’s quiet tears have turned to heartbreaking sobs. “ _I dream of that almost every day,_ ” she said between quivers.  “ _It’s too late now though. I don’t think there was ever a chance for that kind of life for me._ ”

Our tearful conversation was interrupted by Dr. Wagner who came back to draw some blood for my Maman’s labs. I kiss her on the forehead and whisper a soft “ _Je t’aime, Maman_ ” as he checks her charts and fluid levels. Maman speaks while looking at what the doctor is doing, “ _so, ma poulette,”_ she tells me in her melodious voice, _“you’ve read them all? You know what I want when I die. Can I count on you to do all that for me?_ ”

“ _Oui, Maman,_ ” I reply. “ _Je promets._ ”

“ _Bien,_ ” Maman said, her gaze has shifted from Dr. Wagner to me. “ _Je t’aime aussi, Lyra. Ma plus chère fille, mon véritable amour._ ”

 

Maman was lucid and awake for around eight hours – enough time for me to call Gabi and for Lory to catch a flight to Vancouver. When Gabi arrived a few hours later with Lory in tow, Maman’s eyes lit up. Even before we got together, she has always been fond of Gabi, while Lory has always been a spoiled grandson. As Lory kisses and hugs his grand-mère tight, Maman’s doctors arrive. Our conversation out in the hall confirmed what I have suspected as a doctor and what I have feared as a daughter: that the labs show no significant changes which make Maman’s “recovery” to be nothing more but a surge, a final burst of energy before everything circles down the drain.

_“She’ll get better for a bit before she gets worse, Ly,”_ Dr. Nicole Watts – my Maman’s attending physician and a friend from medical school, said. “ _I know the situation is dire, but you can look at it as a morbid gift,_ ” she continued, her tone rich in sympathy. “ _You can ask her what she wants, her last wishes, you can say your goodbyes, tend to unfinished business. Not everybody gets a chance for that._ ”

“ _I know,_ ” I say, as my resolve to fulfill my promise to Maman becomes even stronger.

Before slipping into another seemingly-endless slumber, Maman insisted that we get her phone so we can play her favourite songs. As I sat vigil during those times, familiar songs from The Beatles, Édith Piaf, and Françoise Hardy filled the room. It surprised me a little when songs from The Cardigans suddenly played. Lory explained to me that he actually introduced Maman to the band’s music back when he was in high school.

“ _She likes it, Maman! You should have seen here doing air drums while listening to My Favorite Game,_ ” Lory said enthusiastically while eating an energy bar. “ _But this”_ pointing to the speaker as a sad song plays, _“seems to be her favorite._ ”

“ _What’s this song about?_ ” I ask him.

“ _Well just listen to the lyrics, Maman. It’s basically about holding on to someone, hoping you get one last chance to be with that person again._ ”

Two days later, as Blackbird plays on the small stereo, my Maman – Delphine Cormier - passed away on a quiet and rainy afternoon. I held her hand as she takes her last breath. I’d like to think that we crammed as much love as we can for her in the last days of her life. And hoped that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't speak French, so all the French terms and words were courtesy of Google. Sorry for any mistakes. :)


	3. August 25, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a long chapter which I think is needed to set up the story. Bear with me.

I wake up hungry inside a very bright room, not surprising since I fell asleep as soon as my head and body made contact with a pillow and a bed, forgoing closing the curtains or ordering room service last night. As my eyes adjust to the light, I reached for my phone and apart from messages from Gabi that I replied to immediately, there seems to be nothing pressing or important. I look at the time – 9:31 – and after cleaning up a bit, I make my way to one of the hotel’s restaurants.

Seated by a window inside the hotel’s café, the inviting smell of freshly-ground coffee heightened my anticipation for a filling breakfast. Maybe I was just hungry but the café’s offering didn’t disappoint – the brewed cup of coffee, the vegetarian Quiche of the Day, the biscuits and sausage gravy, and the bowl of fresh fruit all dealt with my hunger pangs. After downing a second cup of black coffee to soothe a slight headache, I make my way back to my room to take a shower, gather the things I am bringing, and to prepare myself for whatever unexpected emotions this day may bring.

I have read Maman’s journals enough to have an idea as to how to get to Paradise Ranch, but to actually get there and not get lost, I know that I have to rely on more than just a set of 58-year-old directions. I head towards the lobby and another woman – Susan, who is plumper and older than Coley, with big blonde hair and an inviting smile – is manning the front desk.  I asked her for directions to Paradise Ranch but the name didn’t ring any bells for her. I tell her that it may be a somewhere right off Route 16 and she exclaimed, “ _Oh, maybe Rudy knows where it is,_ ” she points to a bellhop who just entered the hotel after helping a guest check-out with his luggage. “ _Oh_ _Rudy!_ ” Susan called. “ _Miss Smith here is asking something about a Paradise Ranch. Do you know where that is?_ ”

Rudy, who’s probably in his 20s and has a deep scar on one side of his face, approaches the front desk and nods. “ _Yes Ma’am, I know Paradise Ranch – it’s Miss Niehaus’. Yes, it’s just off Route 16. It’s the ranch right after Mile 403. You can’t miss it – Miss Cosima just painted the marker at Mile 400. Do you know Miss Cosima?_ ” Rudy curiously asks.

“ _I kind of know her, she…is an old friend of my mother’s,_ ” I said with a slight stammer. “ _Can you tell me what she’s like?_ ”

“ _Oh, Miss Cosima is great - I spent summers there as a farmhand. Kind lady, talks a lot with her hands. She knows her ranch like the back of her hand. Very hands-on you know? Heck of an artist too._ ”I nod and try to picture Cosima Niehaus the way Rudy sees her. After refusing the tip I try to give him, I thanked him profusely then headed out to my car. I place the brown and heavy messenger bag slung on my shoulder on the passenger seat, and pick out a map from the bag to map out my route. Confident with the directions I got, I start the car and pull out towards the road.

It wasn’t long before I saw the newly-painted sign Rudy told me about that reads _Paradise Ranch Exit in 3 Miles_. Instead of going straight though, I pull over to the side of the road to inspect the sign further. The texts were written in big white letters with a light blue outline, and a herd of funny-looking sheep is drawn right below it. But what caught my eye are the dots painted on the margins of _Paradise Ranch._

I trace the dots with my fingers multiple times. _“It can’t be,”_ I say out loud to no one. Bordering the words _Paradise Ranch_ are dots making up Constellation Orion, sans his right shoulder. I took a photo of the signage before getting back in the car and looked at it again before driving off. Suddenly, Maman’s urn choice is less mysterious.

I turn towards a single-lane dirt road. Luckily, the gate is open and I drive towards a white farm house with a red barn behind it. I stop the car and take a deep breath. The reality that I am about to meet my mother’s love of her life for the first time dawning on me. With another deep breath, I unbuckle myself and head towards the front door. I rang the doorbell a couple of times before a woman around my age, wearing a plaid shirt and blue jeans with long and quite-curly brown hair, approaches the locked screen door.  “ _Yes?_ _May I help you?_ ” she said.

“ _Hello, I am sorry to visit unannounced. I am looking for Miss Cosima Niehaus. I was told she’s here._ ”

“ _And_ w _ho might you be, Miss?_ ”

“ _I am Lyra Smith. My mother’s an old friend of hers._ ”

Through the screen door, the woman looked at me from head to foot, probably trying to figure out if I’m bullshitting her or if I’m a serial killer. As she scrutinizes me, I feel glad that I made sure to look presentable but casual for today, thinking it would be easier for Cosima or whoever is living with her to let me in their home. With my hair up in a simple bun, I picked out a pair of black jeans and a simple sleeved white polo shirt, and paired it with low-cut dark brown boots. I wore minimal jewelry –just my wedding ring and Maman’s graduation present, a Breguet Classique watch, on my left wrist. Perhaps my appearance was enough because after looking at me she said, “ _She’s in her studio, drawing. Do you mind waiting out here in the porch while I tell her ‘bout you?_ ”

“ _Of course,”_ I say. _“I’ll wait here. Merci._ ” I saw her shrug and watch her walk and disappear inside the house. I sit in one of the porch chairs and nervously look at my watch. Despite that, I didn’t know how many minutes have passed when someone finally opens the door.

“ _Lyra?”_ I turn to look at where the voice came from and saw a woman, a bit short, around the same age as my mom - judging from the wrinkles on her face and skin - but spritely. She’s wearing a maroon sweater and black harem pants, and her salt and pepper hair is styled in a pixie cut that goes so well with her face. She has a nose piercing – a silver stud on the right side of her nose. Her eyes are brown, warm, quite expressive, and framed in black glasses. I can’t help but admire the meticulousness of her winged-out eyeliner as she gives me a glowing smile.  

“ _Look at you all grown-up!_ ” she beamingly said complete with hand gestures.

Taken aback at what she said all I manage to utter is “ _You know who I am?_ ”

“ _Yes. The last time I saw you, you were a wee-little toddler. You have your Mom’s eyes and lips. You’re mom’s a bit blonder but you have the same hair. How is your mother? What are you doing here?_ ”

Her questions reverberated in my head. “ _How is your mother?_ ” How do I tell this woman that Maman is dead? “ _What are you doing here?_ ” How do I tell her why I am here?

“ _Maman sent me, Miss Niehaus,_ ” I say instead.

Confused, she says “ _please, call me Cosima. Why? Where is she?_ ”as she looked towards my car, expecting that someone’s here with me.

‘Just tell her,’ I say to myself, ‘No use prolonging the agony’. “ _She passed away last month, Cosima. She developed Alzheimer’s and had kidney problems. She sent me here to ask you…_ ”

Before I can continue, we were joined by the woman who answered the door. I look at Cosima, who shifted her gaze from me to the floor. Shoulders visibly trembling, she removes her glasses and wipes her eyes with her left palm.

“ _Auntie Cosima? Are you okay?_ ” the woman said.

Cosima put her glasses back on and looks at me with unbearable sadness – the kind that makes loneliness infectious. “ _Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay,”_ she said. “ _Oh, this here is my niece, Kira,”_ Cosima said her voice breaking, even as she tries to regain her composure. _“She runs this entire ranch now, along with her husband and son. Kira, this is Lyra. Her mom and I we… go way back._ ”

I extend my hand to shake Kira’s hand. “ _I’m sorry for being a bit cold earlier,”_ Kira said _. “Lunch is almost ready. Are you joining us?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Cosima answers for me.

“ _Come on in, Miss Lyra,_ ” Kira said. Instead of coming in with us, Cosima went on to walk away from the house. “ _I’ll be there, just give me a minute, Monkey._ ”

 

As Kira leads me inside the home, I couldn’t help but look back at Cosima, who’s now standing near my car, her back facing the house. From where I was standing, I can see that she has both palms on her face. Whether she was expressing disbelief, grief, or surprise, I wouldn’t know, but seeing her reactions made me emotional and a bit confused. “ _Miss Kira,_ ” I said, “ _can I use your washroom?_ ”

“ _Yeah, sure,_ ” Kira said. “ _It’s the second room to the right, just go straight down the hall._ ”

I thank her and walk towards the door. In my short walk, I notice the photos of Cosima and her family adorning the hall. From Maman’s words in her journals, I could tell that the guy in the photo wearing a cowboy hat must be Ennis, Cosima’s dad. The woman who can pass off as Cosima’s twin is her sister, Sarah. And the other woman must be Cosima’s mom who, like Maman, also got afflicted with Alzheimer’s before passing away.

In the bathroom, I wash my hands and splash some water on my face. I take a deep breath as I look in the mirror before heading back out. Finding myself in the hall again, I noticed that apart from photos, some of Cosima’s framed drawings and sketches were hung here. There’s a sketch of the mountains, a drawing of the farm house, and what looks like a sketch of a dandelion with some of its seeds flying away.

“ _Lunch is ready,_ ” Cosima tells me from the other side of the hall as I was looking and touching the dandelion sketch. I nod and follow her to the dining room where she seats at the head of the table while Kira sits on her right. I take the empty seat across Kira. The lunch is a simple meal of salad, rolls, and chicken casserole. We were quiet for a bit until Kira spoke.

“ _So Miss Lyra, where are you from?_ ” Kira said in between bites of her chicken.

“ _Oh please, just Lyra,”_ I say with a smile _. “I came here from Canada. I live in Vancouver. But I was actually born here in Buffalo,_ ” I answered and looked at Cosima who avoided my gaze and seems to be focused on her salad.

“ _Oh! Do you also have a ranch or a farm back at home?_ ”

If there’s one thing I firmly decided on before taking this trip, it is to be completely honest in answering questions that Cosima or anybody in her life would have for me.“ _Oui. I grew up in a ranch. It’s my Maman’s cattle ranch. My brother-in-law runs it now with his wife and their sons._ ” To this, Cosima looked at me, processing what I just said. I was waiting for her to ask a follow-up question. Instead, she just bowed her head and went on to slice her chicken. I couldn’t read her reaction or expression.

“ _So what do you do, Lyra?_ ”

“ _I’m a professor at UBC. I teach Biology – Immunology to be exact. I’m new at teaching and I used to work with the WHO,_ ” I answer as Cosima continues to eat and remain quiet.

“ _Wow! That sounds like a big deal. Why did you leave that job to teach, if you don’t mind me asking?”_

“ _Non, it’s okay. I left because I wanted to be closer to my family, to have more time with them. I used to travel 5 to 7 months in a year. It’s about time I focus my attention to my family, especially when Maman got sick,_ ” I say. Cosima just stares straight, brows furrowing a bit, looking at no one, words not escaping her mouth.

“ _Well then, that’s a good decision. Family is everything. I’m pretty sure your husband is quite happy that you’re always home now,_ ” Kira said.

“ _Wife, actually. And yes, she’s pretty happy that we have put down roots in Vancouver._ ”

“ _Oh._ ” Cosima said before Kira can even apologize for being presumptuous. “ _You have a wife?_ ” Cosima asks with a glint of surprise in her voice.

_“Oui. Her name is Gabi. She’s a scientist too – a geneticist.”_ I grab my phone from my pocket and unlocked it to show them my wallpaper - a photo of my family. “ _We have a son, his name is Lory,”_ I say before I remembered that the photo that Kira and Cosima are now looking at was that of me, Gabi, Lory, and Maman taken at the ranch, Christmas 2014.

Cosima held on to the phone and looked intently at it, not saying a word while doing so. “ _So your son, he’s into the sciences too, I presume?_ ” Kira asked.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little, “ _Non, no. I think he had too much of the hard sciences at home. He’s a Sociology student at UDub. He’s graduating this year and planning to take his post-grad either in Berkeley or Chicago._ ”

“ _Just like my Cal Jr.,_ ” Kira said with a hint of endearing annoyance. “ _I love working in the ranch, but that kid just wanted to stay the hell away from here. Joined the army just to be as far away as possible. It’s a good thing my other son, Felix, loves the ranch life._ ”

I nod and look at Cosima who, throughout our exchange, just stared at my phone. Realizing that I was staring, Cosima stood up, handed my phone back and said “ _I’m going back to the studio. Lyra, can you come with me?_ ” I nod and thanked Kira for lunch.

I follow Cosima towards the end of the hall where another room is located. Behind the door, Cosima’s studio is a room filled out by big ceiling-to-floor windows with roman shades to help control the amount of light pouring in. The room seems like an organized mess, a beautiful disaster – there’s a Persian rug on the wooden floor, a couch, and a long table with a chair near one of the windows littered with art implements and papers. Shelves holding books and more art materials adorn the room, and in the far left corner there seems to be a small repository of finished drawings and works in progress.

Cosima motions for me to take a sit on the couch as she sits on the swivel wooden chair by her table. “ _You know who I am?_ ” she asks with sad eyes.

“ _Oui. I know who you are - at least who you are to Maman, to Delphine,_ ” I said.

_“Why are you here, Lyra?”_

_“I promised Maman that I would try to honour her last wishes. I’m here to ask for your permission. Maman wanted for her ashes to be scattered up in the mountains by your family’s cabin.”_ I held my tongue to gauge her reaction. Suddenly, the tears Cosima has fought since I told her of Maman’s passing now flowed freely from her eyes. “ _Why would she want that? Did she tell you?_ ”

“ _She wrote that she wished to be laid to rest where her heart is,_ ” I said as I wiped the few tears that emerged from my lids. “ _She kept journals, I brought them with me and I want you to have them. I was hoping they can help you decide if you would let me do what Maman wanted._ ” I bit my lower lip – a nervous tick I adopted from Maman. She looks at me intently before rising from her chair to stand by one of the room’s windows – the window that provided what seems to be the nicest view of the mountains.

Looking out, she exhaled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “ _We’ll do it next week, September 1 st, once George and Felix come home from the mountains. I don’t need to read her diary to decide that._”

I shifted slightly where I was sitting. “ _Still, if nothing else, I want you to have them so you can know what happened to her, how she felt all these years._ ” She was silent again, pre-occupied by whatever it is that she chooses to see from her studio’s window. “ _Okay,_ ” she whispered.

“ _Let me go grab them,_ ” I said as I stood to go back to my car to get the messenger bag holding my mother’s journals. Surprisingly, she walked with me, conveying that she didn’t want my visit to be over just yet. “ _Here,_ ” I said making sure that I look at her in the eyes, “ _the bag is quite heavy let me put this in your studio._ ” She shifted her gaze from me to the bag.

“ _Where are you staying?_ ” she asked as we got back in her studio. “ _At the Occidental,_ ” I said. She opens the bag and sees Maman’s journals. “ _I put post-its and numbered them by year,_ ” I explained while pointing to the notebooks. I reach out to my shirt’s breast pocket and handed her my card. “ _If you want to talk, if you have any questions, just give me a call._ ”

“ _Would you mind coming over for lunch tomorrow?_ ” Cosima asks. “ _Lunch is spaghetti and meatballs, nothing to write home about, but I would like it if we can spend some time together before we go up the mountains._ ”

Even if she wanted my visit to last a little longer, her invitation still came as a bit of a surprise to me. I have noticed that ever since I entered her house, she seem to be choosing to look elsewhere – on the floor, towards the mountains, sideways – anywhere, instead of looking at me. This made me feel slightly uncomfortable – as if my presence is clearly not a welcome development for her.  But I do have some questions for her, and I’m sure she will have questions for me, so I nod and say, “ _I’ll be here tomorrow – around the same time._ ”

She moves to sit on the couch and picks out the journal I marked ‘1957-1958’. I said goodbye to her as she flip the pages. I go out of her room and thanked Kira again when I made my way out to the car. I take one good look at the farm house as I bite my lower lip before driving back to the hotel.


	4. Journal Entry # 1: September 18, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long-ass chapter, sorry, I have problems with brevity. The chapter shifts from a journal entry to conversations between Lyra and Cosima. The journal entry is in italics. The dates I estimated may be wrong so bear with me. This chapter is also NSFW-ish.

_18 September 1957_

_It has been a week since I got back to my real life. My real life that is now filled with a lot of pretending. Pretending to be happy, content, at peace. Pretending to be in love with my husband. Pretending to want to have a long, happy life with the man I married. Pretending to be very interested and invested in all his stories. Pretending that the past three months did not happen. Pretending that loving Cosima is something I will get over with time._

_It’s a cruel joke - my real life is now a masquerade. But I brought this to myself – there’s nobody to blame but me._

_The only true emotion I have in my real life is the love I feel for the life growing inside me. I have loved this baby from the minute I found out. When I told Christophe that I’m pregnant, he was obviously very happy. On the way home and during dinner, he could not stop talking about his plans to turn one of the rooms in the house to a nursery. He talked about asking his Maman to come here to help out in the first few months after the baby is born. I pretended that that is fine. I smiled at all the things he said. I never have doubts that Christophe will love and take care of me and our child. I just have to pretend that it is Christophe who I want to build a life with._

_On my first night back, Christophe wanted to show me how much he missed me. A husband showing his love and devotion to his wife, that’s just natural, right? I just came out from the bathroom from a shower that took too long because the suds have been mixed with my sobs. I wore my night gown to bed. He was already waiting. He kissed me tenderly, whispered all the right things, touched me in all the right places. It wasn’t long before he hovered above me, pulling down his pyjamas and my underwear, and hiking up my gown up to my waist. He looked into my eyes and said “Je t'aime”. He said my name as he came and he kissed my belly.  The sweetness and tenderness weren’t enough - I was still pretending that it is him I want next to me every night. Pretending that it is his touch I yearn for. Pretending that this would have to do._

_Later when he was already sound asleep and when my tired mind cannot play pretend anymore, my thoughts drifted to the last time Cosima and I were together before I found out I was pregnant. Tired from a day of chores, Cosima and I retreated to her bedroom for a nap. As I lay down to rest, Cosima turned to face me. She kissed me – chaste at first, before deepening it to convey her desire as her palms touch my waist and the side of my breast. While I kissed her back passionately with my tongue teasing her lower lip, I asked her if it’s possible to keep things wholesome for now because I really wanted to rest. She said ‘okay’ and gave me a kiss on my cheek as we cuddled._

_I have never been one to take naps before – I find that it made me more tired than well-rested – but with Cosima holding me in her arms, naps became something that I look forward to, another opportunity for me to convey  how hard I have fallen in love with her without actually saying the words out loud, afraid that the words would make it more real than it already is._

_The next thing I knew, she was waking me up for dinner. I had no idea what time she got up to cook. “Did you have a good nap?” she asked. I nodded as I run my fingers through my messy hair before seating up to lean against the headboard to stretch my limbs. She then lay by my side to kiss me, giving my lips and my neck playful bites.”You’re beautiful,” she said in between kisses. “I’d give an arm and a leg, and I’d throw in a kidney too, just so I will always wake up next to you,” she whispered. It wasn’t long before she tugged at the hem of my shirt to remove it and to trace my neck and exposed chest with wet kisses before kissing my breasts. I moaned as my desire for her awakens with every lick, bite, and kiss. She went on to remove her glasses and placed them on the nightstand. She took off her shirt and bra while I quickly pull down my pants and underwear._

_Back by my side, she kissed me and sucked at my right nipple. Aroused, I palmed her left breast and pinched her hard nipple. Her hand travels from my left breast to my stomach, to my hips, and finally to my wet core. I whimper at her every touch as she continued sucking and kissing my breast while her fingers drew circles on my bud. Worked up from her touches, she slipped a finger inside me and I gasp._

_"_ _Two fingers…more, please” I begged her. “Plus rapide, faster, faster,” I begged some more. She was happy to oblige as she looks at me while I writhe with want. I tried to move my hips with the motions of her arm, all the while also trying to make the moment last. The combined sensations of her skilled fingers inside me, her wet tongue flicking my nipple, and my hand on her breast pushed me over the edge as wave after wave of pleasure shoots out of my body. I scream her name as I clenched her curled fingers buried deep inside me, the bedpost indenting my back._

_I_ _look at her as I regain my breath. I can imagine that I have a stupid smile on my face because she was grinning and smiling back at me. “Take these off”, I said pulling at her pants and panties. When the garments hit the floor, I guided her to sit on my hip as I slipped my right hand to her mound. My palm touches a patch of curls and the wetness that has pooled there. My desire for her intensifies with every touch of her core. Before she can even ask for it, I parted her lips and slid my fingers up and down. Her eyes are closed and she was moaning as she moves and straddles to increase the friction between her center and my fingers – her hands finding support from the headboard._

_Looking at her while she unravels on my hand was addicting. I cannot look away even when I caressed and sucked at her breasts with my free hand and mouth. “Inside, Delphine”, she asked and so I did as I was told. She rode my hand until she stiffened, pulling me into a tight embrace as she comes. Exhausted from our exertions, we fell asleep after – the dinner she made forgotten as we laid on the bed curled to each other. More than the sensation and pleasure, I felt a sense of domesticity – that I can do this and I want to do this every night for as long as I live. It wasn’t long before we were up to satiate our urges again._

_At nights like this when I cannot block out my thoughts and memories of Cosima, I know that I cannot pretend anymore. I cannot deny that I have fallen in love with her; that I don’t want her to leave; that I want to spend the rest of my life by her side._

_I cannot deny her. I cannot pretend. I don’t want to pretend. But I have to._

\------

 

“ _Do you want some sugar or cream for your coffee, Lyra?_ ” Cosima asked as she takes a sip of her tea. We just ate lunch and contrary to what Cosima said yesterday, the promised plateful of spaghetti and meatballs were actually very good and worth writing home about. After again thanking Kira for lunch, we made our way to her studio.

“ _Non, merci. I prefer my coffee black,_ ” I said to her.

“ _Like mother, like daughter,_ ” she mutters underneath her breath. I grin at her observation. “ _Yes that would look like it,”_ I said with a slight laugh. “ _I used to think that our coffee preference is one of the few things we have in common…_ ” I mused. Not ready to share the intricacies of my personal life with the woman I just met, I pivoted. “ _So you’ve been reading a lot of her journals?_ ” I asked, pointing at Maman’s notebooks that are now sprawled out on her table.

“ _Yes, but I’m still in the 50s though. I read them and re-read them all night,”_ she said as she touches the cover of Maman’s first journal. _“So I’m guessing this is how you found out about us…about me?_ ” Cosima asked as she sits by her table.

“ _No. I knew of you months before I read her journals,_ ” I confessed.

Her brows furrowed at my answer. “ _Really? But you said she had Alzheimer’s._ ”

“ _You were all she talked about,_ ” I said. She gave me a sad smile, her eyes urging me to elaborate and explain what I just said. “ _When it got really bad a bit over a year ago, we had to place Maman in a home that specializes in taking care of people with Alzheimer’s,_ ” I said as I take my first burning sip of the hot coffee. “ _It was hard for me to put her there – I wanted to take care of her no matter how bad it got, but I cannot be there for her all the time.”_

“ _From experience, I know how hard that must be for you, how strong you must be to deal with it_ ” Cosima said. _“Yes,”_ I said. “ _It was hard but I tried. I visited her everyday – two hours in the morning before my first class, and three hours in the early evening after my last class .The place was good though - it had a lot of activities for residents, like an Arts and Crafts class. A week into her stay, I visited her while she was drawing. That was the first time I heard her say your name._ ”

 “ _What did she say?_ ” Cosima asked.

“ _She was drawing something, I couldn’t tell what it was but she wasn’t looking at the paper. She hummed ‘Cosima would have loved this’. Then she looked at me and began to talk about blind contours. ‘Blind what?’ I asked her, and she went on to explain that it’s drawing a portrait without looking down at the paper - you just look at your subject the entire time. She said ‘Cosima loves to sketch, we sketched together’._ ”

Cosima swivels her chair, hiding her face from me to look outside her window, just like she did yesterday. “ _I found it odd that she even likes to draw,”_ I continued my story even when she refused to face me. “ _When I was younger, she would always say ‘ma poulette you ask your Papa for help with your homework’ if there was some sketching involved in the assignment._ ”

“ _I did most of the sketching during that summer,_ ” Cosima sighed. “ _I tried to teach her how and I think if we had more time together, she would have enjoyed it._ ”

“ _I really didn’t think much of it at first. I figured you were a friend from school - a random memory she had as a young girl.”_ I explained. “ _But the next afternoon when I came to visit, I found her in her room, frantically packing her things and panicking. She asked me if I can help her get to Tampa. I asked her what she’s going to do there and she said, ‘Cosima is there, I have to be there before it’s too late.’ “_

I took a sip of my now-lukewarm coffee. Cosima continued to stare out her window. “ _Were you ever in Florida?_ ” I asked her.

She nods. “ _I was for a while. A few days after we got home from the mountains, I left. I had nowhere else to go so I stayed with Sarah, my sister and Kira’s mom. I didn’t even know she knew I was there until I read it here that Ms. Violet from the town clinic told her,_ ” Cosima said, finally facing me again and flipping a page in the 1950s journal. “ _So how did you find these?_ ”

“ _She told me about them,”_ I said and bit my lower lip before I continued my story _. “Four months before she passed, she had her first lucid episode. One of the nurses called me while I was at work grading exams. I left as soon as I got the call and drove as fast as I could. She was confused, wondering why she isn’t at the ranch. I told her everything, which confused her more and made her cry. All I could do was hug her. When she calmed down, I asked her who you are. I had all these stories about you and I don’t even know you, I told her. She was shocked that I know you.”_

Cosima was in tears and was trying to muffle her sobs with her hand. Looking at her now, trembling as face and hands are wet with tears, reminds me of how I cried in my car right after dropping Maman off at the home to be taken care of by strangers. At that time, Gabi tried to comfort me with a tight hug and a kiss on the top of my head. Her being there was a soothing balm for a heartache that lasted for months. I don’t know if my being here can provide the same relief for Cosima so I continued to answer her question instead.    

“ _She said that I should get her red suitcase under her bed in the ranch. She told me she can’t remember the numbers so I should just pry it open…I found it and I guessed the lock combination from her stories. And that’s how I found about the journals. How I finally got a last name to go with your name – Cosima Niehaus._ ”

Cosima looked directly at me, her eyes still wet and mouth slightly open, as if breathing was the hardest thing to do for her right now. “ _What was the combination?_ ” she asked.

_“1-9-5-7,”_ I said.


	5. Journal Entry # 26 / March 11, 1958

The emotions from yesterday still lingered as we take our usual post-lunch positions inside the studio today, with Cosima sitting on her chair by the table while I take the couch. Even if we are in the same room, I can feel the distance she wishes to maintain between us. I don’t really mind – I’ll endure and do whatever it takes to fulfil Maman’s wishes.

Yesterday as I leave her alone to read some more of Maman’s journals, I asked her if I can come by again today and bring some lunch. While she said that Kira wouldn’t mind cooking for three again, I insisted that lunch is on me as a small thank you to them for being so accommodating. So today I arrived at Paradise Ranch with fresh cornbread and beef stew from a restaurant recommended by Susan from the hotel. “ _This is delicious,_ ” Kira exclaimed as I extended an invitation to them to join me for dinner in the same restaurant a few days from now when my family arrives from Vancouver.

“ _You know what I just realized from reading Delphine’s diaries?_ ” she said, the fact that this is the first time she had mentioned Maman by her name is not lost on me. “ _We share the same birthday – March 9 th._”  

 

 

_11 March 1958_

 

_Two days ago, I gave birth to my daughter – Lyra. From the second I held her in my arms, I knew that, this little baby is going to be my sweetest girl, my truest love, forever. Today as I cradle her and she holds on to my little finger, I feel that all the pain and difficulties in bringing her to this world was worth it._

\------

 

“ _Did she have a risky pregnancy? Was she in danger?_ ” Cosima asked me with a worried and confused look all over her face as she points to an entry from Maman’s first journal.

“ _Yes, I think it was risky, but I don’t think she was in danger. When I was pregnant with Lory, she told me she had what I had, placenta previa. It’s risky if not managed properly or detected. I think it was riskier back then when C-sections are not that common,_ ” I replied.

 

\------

_In one of my check-ups last February, the doctor told me and Christophe that I have placenta previa and might bleed too much once I give birth. Since my baby is in breech, the risk of bleeding out is bigger. While Christophe was obviously worried, asking our doctor about preventions and precautions, in my head I was saying with a sly grin ‘another birthing complication’. My mind wonders what Cosima would have said about this._

_\------_

_“What’s with her quip about birthing complications?”_ I asked her before she turns the page to another entry.

“ _Oh, birthing complication is how we met,_ ” Cosima said. “ _My father called Delphine in the middle of the night to come here to help us out with one of our ewes in labor. I suspected that the lamb’s front legs were twisted back. The ewe safely delivered a healthy lamb. I helped._ ”

“ _What would you have said to her about me in breech?_ ” I curiously ask her.

Cosima looks at me and stands up from her chair. “ _Come with me,_ ” she said. I follow her path as we make our way outside the studio, outside the house through a back door, and finally inside the barn behind the house.

She points to a pen, “ _this is where I first saw your Mom,”_ she said _. “I was coming from inside the house when one of the farmhands told me that the vet arrived. I was expecting to see Miss Violet. Instead, I saw Delphine.”_ Cosima enters the pen and stands in the center of it. _“She was here. She was wearing a simple shirt and work pants, and her blonde hair was in a ponytail. Even many years later, that image of her is still in my head.”_ I watch as she paces inside the birthing pen.

“ _The minute I saw her, I knew, you know,_ ” she said looking straight in my eyes.

 

\------

 

_I named her Lyra. After that summer, I began to spend my days reading about the stars. Trying to get to know the stars that Cosima may be looking at wherever she may be. I try to gaze at the night sky whenever I can – at first, I was hoping that Cosima is with me but now, months later I am just hoping that she’s at least also looking at the same sets of stars I’m gazing at. For some reason, the name Lyra stuck with me. I don’t know why I wanted to name my daughter after a constellation. Maybe because I want to remind myself that I would have never seen or appreciated the beauty and mystery of these stars had it not been for Cosima._

_I miss her every day._

_\-----_

I avoid Cosima’s gaze and explored the rest of the barn instead of joining her in the pen. The Paradise Ranch’s barn is a bit bigger than what we have back at home, and it is obviously way more cluttered. Like the Mile 400 sign, the barn walls have been freshly repainted and repaired – which explains the unusual clutter as it seems that Kira has not yet finished returning all the barn and ranch implements that should be hanging or placed in the various barn hooks, pens and nooks. 

In a dim corner, I found several wooden placards which I discovered to be old and taken-down signs for the ranch. There were several of them – I counted around six old signs – four of which have the same modified Orion constellation drawings that I saw in my first trip here.  I crouch down to get a closer look at them and like what I did with the Mile 400 sign and with Maman’s urn, I traced the dots with my fingers, checking if the patterns are the same.

Cosima approaches me, curious as to what got my attention. “ _I’ve been meaning to ask,_ ” I say as I stand up, “ _what’s with the dots on the signs?_ ” pointing to the wooden placards. I wanted to unravel the mystery behind the incomplete Orion, Maman, and Cosima – how it has permeated in their lives.

“ _It’s nothing, really,_ ” Cosima replied as she walks towards the barn door, signalling her wish to return to the house. Sensing her evasiveness, I followed her out of the barn, disappointed with her answer. I know she’s lying – these dots mean something to Maman and to Cosima, enough for her to draw them in the new ranch sign many years since 1957, and enough for Maman to make sure that the markings stay with her even in death. I was expecting my honesty in answering all her questions to be rewarded with the same level of honesty when I ask mine. I guess I was wrong, because except for what she said to me in the birthing pen, all I’ve been getting are curt answers with no further explanations, or worse, pivots. It’s frustrating that I seem to be the only one divulging and disclosing.

Back in the studio, I couldn’t shake off my disappointment at the woman my Maman loved. “ _You know, you never answered my question,_ ” I say out loud, not hiding my disdain, as I pick up my bag from the couch. “ _What would you have said to Delphine about her pregnancy?_ ”

Cosima looks at me, quite unsure how to handle the sudden condescension in my voice. “ _I don’t know, Lyra_ ” she said, her shoulders shrugging. “ _You’re mother made her choices. I asked her to stay -she didn’t. She chose not to give me a chance to have a say about you, about us,_ ” she said, her tone exasperated, “ _so I don’t know what to say about all that._ ”

“ _Well, clearly you have to read more of her journals,_ ” I retort. “ _I don’t know about you, but I think she made her choices perfectly clear,_ ” I say as I sling my bag to my shoulders and head out towards my car, unsure why me – an accomplished 58-year-old woman - is acting like a petulant child around a parent.


	6. Journal Entry # 57 / April 16, 1960

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got some writing done over the weekend. Now I give you Chapter 6.
> 
> Thank you to everybody who left kudos and comments :). This is my first fanfic and these are all new to me, so I really appreciate the encouragement. I promise to continue keeping at it.

I consider my ability to get some restful sleep regardless of how much coffee I have drank within the day as some kind of hidden talent, a gift even. It was Maman who gave me my first taste of coffee when I was six when she innocently mixed half a teaspoon of powdered black coffee into my warm morning glass of milk. ‘ _A treat_ ’ she said, as she stirs in the coffee which gave my milk a caramel hue, for eating all my vegetables last dinner.

Since then, coffee has become a fixture in my life – it got me through busy days helping Maman in the ranch; all-nighters during college, med school, and internship; late night and early morning nappy changes for Lory; jetlag and time zone adjustments during work trips; and keeping a watchful eye on Maman as she got sicker. I wasn’t one of those people who worried that a third or fourth cup of coffee would disrupt my sleep, so I easily down at least four cups of coffee daily, basking in the freedom of how caffeine and slumber have somehow found a peaceful co-existence within my body.

Ironically, these are the thoughts running in my head now while I toss and turn as my room’s clock-radio proudly displays the time: 3:24 AM.  I have had a grand total of two cups of coffee during the entire day and I’ve been lying down for four hours now. Two measly cups of coffee – one in the hotel and one in Cosima’s ranch – and no ounce of sleep, _‘I must be getting old’,_ I mumble to myself. With nothing to do, I grab my phone beside the clock and hoped that the person I’m calling is awake.   

“ _Up early or can’t sleep?_ ” Gabi asked without even bothering with a ‘Hello babe’.

“ _Cannot sleep,_ ” I said. “ _You? Did I wake you?_ ”

“ _No, the other thing – up early. I must be getting old._ ”

“ _My sentiments exactly._ ”

“ _You wanna talk about it, babe?_ ” Gabi asked. 

I put our call on speaker as I send her a quick text. “ _I sent you something just now. Did you get it?_ ” Gabi pauses to check her messages. “ _Yeah, it just got in. So this is what’s bothering you? What am I looking at exactly?_ ”

“ _Babe, look closer,_ ” I ask her. Over the phone, I hear the ruffling of bed sheets as Gabi moves to reach for her glasses on our nightstand.  She must have found them pretty easily as she said - “ _Oh._ ”

“ _That photo is the sign to Cosima’s ranch – I took it a couple of days ago. She just painted it. I was in their barn today and I found several old signs just like it. The pattern, the dots, they’re all the same – in the signs, on Maman’s urn, even in my childhood bedroom, do you remember that?”_ I ask her.

“ _Orion without one shoulder,”_ Gabi said as I hear her try to sit up on our bed. _“Yes I remember of course. I’m not that old. We used to look at the stars when we were kids during sleepovers – well, at least the glow in the dark versions of Lyra and Orion in your room._ ” 

“ _It bugged us science nerds that Maman seem to have pasted Orion wrong on the ceiling so we fixed it when we were in 5 th grade,_” I added, remembering with amusement how we borrowed a library book to guide us in “repairing” my glow in the dark Orion. “ _Today I asked her about it, you know,_ ” finally letting my wife in on the reason why I can’t sleep.

“ _What did she say?_ ” she asks.

“ _She said it was nothing. She’s lying Gabi,_ ” I tell her with irritation.

“ _Maybe she didn’t want to talk about it. Cut her some slack, babe._ ” Gabi said to my surprise.

“ _Hey, think of what you’re asking me here. And whose side are you on, Gabrielle?_ ”

“ _Yours babe, of course, but hear me out will you?_ ” I nod at what she said and as if she could see me all the way from Vancouver, she continued to talk.

“ _We are working under the assumption that their feelings are mutual – that Delphine is also Cosima’s greatest love. So, you decided to go to Wyoming to meet Delphine’s greatest love. You came to her house unannounced to give her the worst news she could possibly get. And then you ask her to reminisce and relive an almost-60 year old heartbreak filled with tears, missed chances, and responsibilities – that all took place in a society that wouldn’t understand or allow their love and relationship.”_

She’s not done yet, she’s just catching her breath, _“and on top of all that,”_ her voice is louder now as she tries to make another point, _“the bearer of bad news and journals has her love-of-her-life’s hazel eyes. Their voices even have the same timbre. You know, it’s a good thing you don’t have your mother’s accent or Cosima would have probably dropped dead the minute you spoke to her.”_

Gabi pauses, before speaking softly again. _“Now, imagine if it was us. That could have easily been us, Ly. If I were her, I would clam up too. I won’t be able to look at your hypothetical daughter too._ ” Silence is all the reaction I can give her.

“ _Am I right? Or am I right?_ ” she asks with a dash of sass.

“ _You’re right,_ ” I concede. She sighs before she speaks again. “ _I know you decided to be completely honest to Cosima. That’s the right thing to do, that’s what Delphine would have done. But you also have to see the big picture –  that she really doesn’t owe you any explanations. Yet even so, she stills sees you every day, and talks to you about Delphine even if it hurts for her. So the least you can do babe is be more patient, more understanding. Give her a break if there are things she doesn’t want to talk about, you know._ ”

Gabi’s words make sense and it made me feel bad about how I reacted to Cosima this afternoon. Suddenly tired, I say: “ _Babe?_ ”

“ _Yeah?_ ” she said. “ _Would you mind staying with me until I fall asleep?_ ” I requested.

“ _Sure thing. I love you, Ly._ ”

“ _I love you too,_ ” I said, finally falling to sleep not long after.

 

\-------

_April 16, 1960_

_We’re moving to Montana in a week._

_Christophe’s company was so impressed by his work and designs that he has been promoted to head a smaller regional office there. If at first he was enticed with a U.S. citizenship, now he is being lured with a fat bonus, a handsome retirement plan, a bigger paycheck, a more spacious house, and a new car. ‘It would be stupid not to take it, Delphine,’ he said. I nodded._

_Playing the part of the supportive wife has become easier as time passes. After all, three Christmases and Thanksgivings have gone by without even a single glimpse of Cosima in Wyoming. Miss Violet said to me in passing that she’s in Florida with her sister, Sarah. I wish I can go there, she’s somewhere in Tampa, even if to just see if she’s well. But I couldn’t stand leaving ma poulette even for just a few days – she’s all that matters to me now._

_\------_

I arrive back at Paradise Ranch in the afternoon with a vanilla bundt cake as a peace offering. As the house gets nearer and nearer, I noticed that Cosima is actually sitting on the porch, armed with her sketchpad and charcoal pencil. I look at her as I pull out my car keys and saw, to my relief, that she’s actually quite happy to see me.

“ _I was waiting for you today,_ ” she said as I approach her with a reserved smile to hand her the pastry. “ _Oh, thank you, Lyra. This would go well with my tea and your coffee,_ ” she said with a wink as she put it down on a nearby table where I saw that my Maman’s journal from the 1960s was open.

“ _I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday,_ ” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “ _I know this -”_ my shoulders shrug involuntarily _“me being here, is not the easiest thing for you. But if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get to know you better to get to know Maman better,_ ” I say with all the genuine sincerity I can come up with.

“ _It’s nothing,_ ” she said as she waves her right hand side to side, the smudges of charcoal evident on her palm. “ _I’d like that too. I’d like to get to know you more. Your Maman and family too,_ ” she said with a beaming smile.

I return her smile as I sit down next to her and take a glimpse of what she’s working on. “ _Is that your dad, Ennis?_ ” I ask pointing at the portrait she’s currently doing.

“ _Yeah, that’s my old man._ ” 

\-----

_As we prepare for the move, I went to the post office to make arrangements for any mail that may be delivered to our soon-to-be old address after we leave. I also managed to run a few errands on the way over. With some time to spare before Lyra’s babysitter leaves for the day, I find myself driving along Route 16, passing by the Mile 400 sign, and pulling over to Paradise Ranch. I haven’t been here since the day Cosima and I got home from the ranges...the day we separated. I see Ennis’ truck parked outside their home and took a chance that he’s here as I knock on the door._

_He peeks from the window and gives me a small, tired smile. I didn’t have anything prepared to say to him about my unannounced visit so when he opened the door, I asked him how he is and how his wife is doing. ‘All is well’ is all he replied. He went on to sit on the porch chair and invited me over as he reaches for a cigarette from his jacket. ‘Do you smoke Miss Delphine?’ he asked as he offered me his pack. I grab his matches to light a stick and told him thanks._

_We were quiet as we share a smoke. I reach in to my pocket and hand him a copy of our new address in Montana. ‘Please keep in touch,’ I told him. ‘I’ll be happy to help out the ranch anyway I can,’ I added. He smirked as he puts the piece of paper in his pocket._

_What he said next surprised me._

 

_‘I know about you and my daughter, Delphine.’_

_\-----_

 

_“Did you know that he knew?”_ I asked Cosima, bearing in mind Gabi’s words to be patient and understanding just in case she didn’t want to talk about it; that in the grand scheme of things, she really doesn’t owe me any explanations or stories.

“ _Not at that time,_ ” she said. “ _But Dad mentioned it when he got sick. He said he’s sorry for not doing anything about it, for keeping her address from me. He said that Delphine loves me too - talked about her coming here before leaving, then he told me your address in Montana. It was too late though, you guys weren’t in that home anymore when I got there._ ”

“ _When was that?_ ” I asked.

“ _Around 1975,_ ” she said.

“ _We already moved to Canada by then,_ ” I lament.

 

\-----

_I try to not know what he was referring to. I cocked my head to the side and when that didn’t work, I shook my head in denial. But the blush on my face and my teary eyes has made the reality I try to hide very obvious. His face was devoid of any emotion as he talked. ‘I had a hunch when I saw her face as you walked away from the house’ he said. ‘She loves this ranch, the animals, what we do. Delphine, she loves her life here. When she told me she needed to go, to be as far away from here as possible, I really knew that she has fallen in love with you.’_

_I wanted to ask him where Cosima is, if there’s some way I can reach her, but my lips remain shut. ‘You being here,’ he said, ‘confirms that the love ain’t one-sided. As a father, I can appreciate that...’ I stay silent, not knowing what to say._

_He flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, lights another one, and blows a puff of smoke. ‘How is your daughter, Delphine?’_

_‘Fine,’ I said, still reeling from Ennis’ revelation. ‘She’s two now. She’s perfect. She’s my one treasure in this world.’_

_‘So you understand’ he looks at me straight in the eyes ‘the lengths a parent will go to just to make sure nothing hurts their kids, right?’_

_‘Yes,’ I said as I stub out my cigarette in a wooden ashtray on the table._

_‘It’s not because you’re two girls, as long as there is love there and my daughter is happy, I don’t care about that,’ he said as he shakes his head before wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead with his palm. ‘She loves you and you love her, but that’s not going to work. You have family, a little girl to look after. I have a little girl to take care of too, Delphine. I can’t stand seeing my girl so lost. So please, as a big favor to me, let her go. Move on and never look back. Do it for me please. Do it for her mom too, for us. Please Delphine.’ I look at him with tears in my eyes and nod before running to my pick-up as fast as possible._

_Fascinating, talented, beautiful, unique, and wonderful Cosima is lost because of me. Maybe Montana is for the best._

_Maybe never looking back is for the best._

_\------_

“ _He didn’t have any right to keep her away from me, to say those things to her,_ ” Cosima said in a tone that is slightly defiant. “ _But then, I really wouldn’t know what to do if he gave me her address right away. I would have been there sure, just to get a glimpse of her, get to know you. But what would I do or what would I say, I don’t know. We didn’t want to hurt anybody._ ”

I pondered on her words and remembered something Cosima said when we first met. “ _You told me a few days ago that you saw me when I was little. When was that?_ ”

“ _1960, January,_ ” she replied. My eyes went wide at what she said. Unlike in previous days when she didn’t elaborate any further on her answers even if my eyes are egging her to do so, she said, “ _You were in your old house here and it was winter.”_ She smiles as she recounts her story, _“I went home late for the holidays. One day, suddenly, my car was making its way to your house - like I was being pulled there. I couldn’t help myself. That’s why I stayed as far away as possible you know – I wouldn’t be able to help myself...”_ She paused as she wipes away tears dripping to her cheeks.

_“I was in my car and through the windshield I saw you with Delphine – you were all cute and bundled up and crying, and she was trying to soothe you, rubbing your back, and I’m guessing singing to you?_ ” She gives out a brave smile amidst the tears. “ _And when you stopped crying, she sat you on her lap, and she sat on the porch rocking you to sleep...she had a faraway look and she’s so beautiful..._ ” she said as gasps joined her tears. “ _I wanted nothing more than to get out of the car and hug her..._ ”she cried, unable to continue her story anymore as her sobs overcome her.

I reach out inside my bag and grabbed some tissues to offer her. I grab some as well to wipe away the smudges of charcoal pencil on her cheeks that have mixed with her tears. “ _It’s okay, Cosima, it’s okay,_ ” I try to reassure her as I kneel before her to dab a tissue on her face. With no more distance between us, I can’t help but hug and comfort her, realizing later on that I have tears of my own to tend to.


	7. Journal Entry # 73 and 74 / December 8, 1962 and December 15, 1962

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the interest, comments, and the kudos. I'm hoping you're having a good time reading this as much as I'm having fun trying to write it. I'm going on a holiday today and had a lot of time the night before (I can always sleep in the car) so here's another chapter. :)

Before we knew it the sun was setting, and Kira - who was making her way back to the house from the barn, found us on the porch while we were trying to get a hold of our emotions. Tear-stricken and exhausted from sobbing uncontrollably, Cosima excused herself to go to her studio to take a short nap. Before she left though, she told Kira that I would be staying for dinner.

Aside from the friendly nods, thank yous, and other small greetings during my visits, I have never had the chance to talk to Kira again after my first lunch at Paradise Ranch. While it was obvious that she didn’t mind making dinner for three, I wanted to make myself useful so I insisted on helping her prepare tonight’s simple dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. She tried to refuse my help at first, but she finally relented as I began to put on an apron and chop tomatoes.

“ _Lyra,_ ” she said as she grates the cheese, “ _why were you and Auntie Cosima crying on the porch?_ ”

At her question, I debated whether or not I should be honest or make up an excuse. While I know that Ennis knew of Cosima and Delphine’s relationship, I had no clue if her other family members are aware of my Maman’s history with Cosima, or if Cosima even wanted to share that part of her life to them.  And if they know about them, how do they feel about Maman? My uncertainties led me to a middle-ground answer: an honest but quite vague response for Kira. “ _We just got to talking about my Maman. Old memories made us nostalgic._ ” 

Kira looks at me and nods, her lips pursed, before opening a cupboard to get a boiling pot to be filled with water. “ _Your mom, her name is Delphine, right?”_

Or maybe Cosima did share with Kira who Delphine is. “ _Yes, Delphine Cormier, how did you know her name?_ ” I said.

“ _I might have met her once._ ” 

\--------

_8 December 1962_

 

_It took a while but now I feel that we have finally settled into our new life in Helena – Christophe is doing well at work and is always busy, while Lyra is doing just fine at daycare. In less than a year, ma poulette is going to start kindergarten! Mon dieu, she’s growing up too fast!_

_The past 10 months have been busy for me as well, professionally speaking. I just got a job at the Montana Department of Livestock, under the Animal Health Division. When I first started, all the men in the office (with the exception of one colleague - Scott Smith) made me felt...insignificant, my opinions and suggestions rarely listened to by our boss and colleagues in my first few months on the job. It is only when I brought Christophe in one of our office gatherings did I get some form of acknowledgment, a little respect. He is after all a successful official in a prominent oil company. After meeting Christophe, most of the men I work with are now just...uncomfortable working with a female veterinarian._

_I began to value Scott’s friendship and support at work - he is the only one who actually respects me and treats me as an equal. Like me, Scott is also a Canadian living in the States. He’s originally from Toronto. Apart from being a decent person, he also introduced me to his wife, Krystal - who has become a very good friend. Krystal is American and when they got married, they decided to settle in Helena where her mother lives. Together, they have two children – Mark and Gabrielle. Like me, Lyra is very happy to have new friends! She and Gabrielle seem to be getting along so well._

_Tomorrow I am being sent by my office to my first solo work trip – the Annual Trade Show of the Montana Stockgrowers Association in Billings. I am presiding over a seminar on the improvements of animal laboratory services for veterinarians and how cattle raisers can use these to their advantage. The talk will be on the 10 th and I’ll be back by the 12th. I am quite excited!_

\-------

“ _You have?_ ” I ask Kira who is stirring the pot and seasoning the boiling soup.

 “ _Yeah - at my grandma’s funeral. She was there._ ”

Distracted by what Kira is telling me, I made a mess out of the simple task of melting butter in the pan for the sandwiches. “ _Sorry,_ ” I said as I grab a kitchen towel to wipe the butter from the counter. “ _When was your grandmother’s funeral?_ ”

“ _Let me see..._ ” Kira said as she tries to get a new clean kitchen cloth in one of the shelves, while at the same time searching her brain for that particular memory. “ _That was too long ago, but if my memory serves me right, I was seven so 1962, December 12 or 11 - I think? It was winter. I remember your mom’s hair though – blonde ringlets. And she’s very pretty just like you. And the way she speaks...She really made quite an impression on me. I was trying to mimic her accent for days,_ ” she shares with a smile.

I nod as I put the bread on the pan, trying to be nonchalant as I hide my confusion. Nowhere in her journals did she mention going back to Wyoming during those dates, and from what I can recall, she wrote a lot about work, about conferences and conventions during 1962 and 1963. Maybe I should borrow that particular notebook from Cosima later just to check.

Still feeling dumbfounded and quite blindsided by this new piece of information, I didn’t even notice that I almost burnt my first grilled cheese sandwich. I make a mental note to reach for this particular sandwich later at dinner, and to delay processing this information for now so I can concentrate on the task at hand – not serving my hosts charbroiled grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner.

Once all the food is ready, Kira left the kitchen to call Cosima to dinner while I took the liberty of setting the table. We take our usual places in the house’s dining area and Cosima regards me with a smile as soon as she takes her seat. “ _Dig in, Lyra,_ ” she says with an affable head tilt and a smile, the nap obviously having a good effect on her mood.

The dinner is actually very comforting and very homey which made me momentarily forget about what I just found out about Maman minutes ago. “ _This is actually my wife and son’s favorite dish,_ ” I shared as I take a bite of my browner-than-usual sandwich.

“ _When are they coming over?_ ” Cosima asked as she noisily sips her soup.

“ _They’ll be arriving in Billings from Vancouver by noon of the 30 th. I’m picking them up from there and we’ll be back here by mid-afternoon._” I said. “ _You are going to have dinner with us, yes? I already made the reservation at the restaurant._ ”

Cosima and Kira gave each other a knowing look before looking at me. “ _We were thinking,_ ” Cosima said as she affectionately lay her hand on my arm, “ _that we can just have dinner here – George and Felix will be home by then and I’d love for you to meet them._ ” Kira nods at Cosima and said “ _and_ _you can help out with the dinner - just try not to make a mess next time,_ ” she laughs ribbing me about the spilled butter and the less than perfect sandwich I am eating.

“ _You can also stay over here, we have plenty of room,_ ” Cosima added. “ _So we can travel to the cabin earlier, prepare earlier. So...what do you say, Lyra?_ ” I take a spoonful of soup and let it warm and soothe my throat and stomach. ‘ _What would Maman do?_ ’ I ask myself before giving a definitive answer. “ _Okay, we would love that. Merci,_ ” I reply. I think that’s what Maman would want.

When dinner was over, I volunteered to wash the dishes so Kira can rest after working on getting the barn more organized. She must have had a pretty tiring day as she thanks me for the gesture before kissing her Auntie Cosima good night and retreating to her room. Cosima decided to keep me company, offering to make me coffee.

“ _Let me give you a slice of that cake you brought as a treat for helping us out tonight,_ ” she said as she fills the kettle with water, my early morning thoughts of Maman showering me with treats as a child not lost on me as she gets small plates for the pastries. As I wash plate after plate after plate, my mind wanders to Kira’s words about how she met my mother as a young girl. Without thinking about it, I allow my curiosity get the best of me.

“ _Cosima,_ ” I said while rinsing the dishes, “ _Kira said she met Delphine when she was younger. Is that true?_ ”

From where I am standing behind the sink, I can only hear the splash of water, the light shuffling of feet, and the sound of a chair being pulled out. Not knowing how she reacted to my question, I was expecting her to not answer. All the while, I am also preparing myself to be okay with that, remembering the big picture Gabi and I talked about.

The sound of a whistling kettle startles me as I hear Cosima turn off the stove and reach for cups. With the dishes done, I turn to face her for the first time since asking about Kira and Maman, my lower lip trapped between my teeth, nervous that I may have really overstepped this time. As expected, she’s avoiding my gaze as she lifts the lid to slice the bundt, but I also saw that she has already prepared the French press for my coffee. I release my lip, relieved that the offer for coffee still stands and that she’s not about to kick me out of her house.

“ _Cosima?_ ” I said. “ _I’m sorry for asking. Forget about it,_ ” as I take a seat across her.

She dips a tea bag in her cup and slides over my plate of pastry.  “ _Yes Lyra, Delphine met Kira. She was here when we buried my mom._ ”

I shake my head in disbelief. “ _She never mentioned anything about it in her journals,_ ” I said as I fill my cup to the brim. “ _Something important like that warrants an entry..._ ”

Cosima looks at me while she tries to pull her long gray cardigan tighter to herself.  She takes a sip of her tea, a lavender concoction that reminds me of Maman’s scent. “ _She wrote about it,_ ” she said as she reaches inside one of her cardigan’s pockets to bring out a journal.

 

\-----

_December 15, 1962_

_I hurt her over, and over, and over again. Never looking back is for the best._

 

\-----

 

_“That was it? There was no context. I just thought she was missing you since her birthday and the holidays were coming up,”_ I said with a hint of shock in my voice as I re-read the short entry Cosima flipped to while also looking at the preceding and succeeding entries to check if I missed something.

Cosima removes her glasses and places her palms on her eyes. In between sighs, she said: “ _she was in that trade show when she bumped into Paul Dierden – he owned a ranch down Mile 401. She asked him about Ennis and Paul may have mentioned something about paying his respects to us before going to Billings. That’s how she found out._ ”

“ _So you saw each other?_ ” I ask her as I try to recall any story that Maman told me during my visits at the home that may have some resemblance to what I am hearing now.” _Why am I even asking? Obviously you met,”_ I deduced.

Cosima bites her lip and stirs her tea. “ _It was Kira who saw her,”_ she said _. “We were in the cemetery and the service was over and people were just leaving. I was carrying Kira and she pointed at someone looking at us. She was far away but I think I knew it was Delphine._ ”

I drink my coffee and hoped that she continues her story. “ _I...ran to her”,_ she said. _“She tried to run away and get into her car but Kira caught up with her. That’s how she met Delphine._ ”

“ _And that was it?_ ” I asked while I rub my temples. “ _If that’s it, what she wrote and what happened makes no sense._ ” She met my sentiments with a deafening silence.   

With nothing to react to and nothing to do, I hold the journal in front of me and looked at it again. Maman’s journals from the 1950s to the 1970s all looked the same: black, letter-sized paperback notebooks with light brown spines containing about a hundred leaves. Her later journals have the same number of pages but are smaller, dark blue spiral ones. Maman wrote on both sides of the pages and always had nice penmanship - that is up until her illness altered her handwriting from elegant cursives to almost illegible. 

 “ _You know what I just realized_ ” I said to Cosima while carefully flipping and skimming through the journal pages, “ _after this entry, she stopped writing about you for a while.”_ I let my point sink in so Cosima can say something. When she didn’t, I exhaled and said _“something happened, Cosima. Can you please tell me what it is?_ ”

Cosima looks at me and I meet her gaze. The effects of her nap now completely washed out as I stare into her wet and tired eyes. “ _Fine. You want to know what happened?_ ” she said with a sarcastic smirk.

“ _Yes, please tell me._ ”

“ _I saw her, and I wanted to touch her, hug her, kiss her, and I knew she wanted it too but she ran off right after meeting Kira. Later that day, I snuck out of this house and drove all over town, checking motels for her truck. When I saw it outside a motel along the I-90, I asked for her room number. We spent the night together._ ”

I tried to maintain a neutral look and not give any emotion away to try to coax her into telling me more about that night. “ _She woke up in the middle of the night as I was about to slip out. She asked me to stay and I say I can’t, that I need to be as far away as possible from her,_ ” Cosima said, her palms right back on her eyes.

“ _Why didn’t you stay?_ ” I asked.

“ _Because it fucking hurts, Lyra!”_ she screamed as she looks at me, her palms slamming the wooden table making our cups and plates clang. _“Because I want more than just a couple of dingy motel room fucks! Because I want her! All of her – her stories, her laughs, her tears, her kisses, her love, her anger, her present, her future! And I know she wanted all of me too, and we can’t have that...She didn’t stay the first time anyway, so why the hell should I?!?”_

She paused and bit her lip, probably sensing that she was out of line. _“I love her so much it hurts. It hurts being around her..._ ” she then said, her anger still there but now less pronounced as a set of different emotions envelops her. Sadness? Regret? Irritation? Longing? Maybe a combination of all those things?

It’s my turn now to be quiet. As I sit in silence, I tried hard not to picture Maman nursing a pain so unbearable she couldn’t even put it in writing. I tried not to imagine Maman driving back home from Wyoming to Montana, tears in her eyes while her heart shatters into a million tiny pieces as she drives and drifts farther and further away from Cosima.

Those images were being seared in my head until my thoughts were disturbed by Cosima’s unusually stern voice. “ _I think you should leave, Lyra._ ”

I look at her with disbelief before getting up from where I am sitting and straightening my shirt and coat. I head for the back door but before turning the knob to let myself out, something comes over me – the need to defend and speak for my mother? Doubt? Anger? Regret? Sadness? Maybe a combination of all those things?

“ _You say you love her but when she asked you to stay, you left. That’s some love you have for her,_ ” I said, unable to face her but forceful enough for her to sense my disappointment.

I slam the door shut, not even thinking about the consequences of my words on our plans in the next few days.


	8. Journal Entry # 108 / October 5, 1972

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re going with a different route in this chapter as we see the story from Cosima’s perspective. There are portions that are slightly NSFW.

At the sound of the door closing, I couldn’t help but let out a cry – the kind of cry that I thought I have already overcome with time: desperate, pleading, almost guttural, and absolutely hopeless. I stifle my cries so I don’t wake Kira by burying my face in my arms on the table. “ _I love her so much it hurts, it hurts so much. It still hurts,_ ” I say, like a prayer, to no one.

I don’t know how long I was in this position: crying this way as if it was 1957 and Delphine just left the ranch – pregnant and in a hurry to meet Christophe to tell him the good news; crying as if it was 1960, trying to reach out for someone I can’t touch as I watch her and Lyra on their porch one ordinary winter day; crying as if it was 1962 all over again when I left her alone in that motel room; crying as I did when sudden pangs of loneliness and guilt hit me unexpectedly even years after we were last together - regardless if I’m alone or if there’s a warm body beside me in bed.

Suddenly, I was sucked out from my tear-stricken and almost-catatonic state by a round of 10 cu-ckoos from my father’s black forest cuckoo clock in the kitchen. Around the same time 54 years ago, I remember driving all over town, stopping at motels and desperately looking for Delphine. I must have gone to eight motels until I finally spotted her truck. Before I let out a new batch of tears and cries, I grab Delphine’s diary and turn off the kitchen lights as I seek for the privacy of my studio: the only place where I can put 60 years worth of repressed feelings and emotions out in the open - where I can regard the sadness, taste the longing, and caress my memories of Delphine Cormier.

My studio was dark but still offered a sense of security for my vulnerable state. I flick the lights open as I lock the door behind me. With only my emotions for company, I can’t help but remember our last night together: the desperation of my knocks on her room; the shuffling of feet as Delphine approached to open the door; her wide, teary hazel eyes looking at me with so much pent-up longing and love; the way I lunged forward to cup her beautiful face and capture her soft lips with mine; the way she embraced and kissed me back – deep, soothing, and tender, conveying her desires; how her hips moved against mine; how I unbuttoned my plaid shirt once I entered her room; how she lifted her sleeping gown and unfastened my belt; how the back of my knees hit the mattress as she continues to undress me; Delphine’s naked body; her lips on my breasts; my mouth on her neck; her mouth and tongue on my wet core; her kisses on my back as she pumps her fingers inside me; how I closed my eyes while having intense orgasms; the way she tastes and smells; my fingers knuckle-deep inside her; her heady moans and release; the noisy squeaks of the damp bed; how we ended up talking about our lives and what we have done while we were apart; how I kissed all her beauty marks; how we fell asleep after, holding each other tight; how Delphine’s arms lulled me into a false sense of security - an illusion of a lifetime together; the panic that woke me to a reality that I would never get to have a future with her; the need to get away; our last fight; ‘ _Please don’t leave me, Cosima!_ ’; the saddest drive home. 

I open a shelf near a bookcase where I keep a jar containing my rolled joints of organic and medicinal grade marijuana for my arthritic pains. “ _A joint for your joints,_ ” I remembered Felix once joked as I put one between my lips. I light it up as I lay on my couch, my free hand reaching for one of Delphine’s journals scattered all over the carpet. 

I have read most of her journals from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, and I have been re-reading them since. I hang on to the words my lover wrote, thinking to myself that she could have written these in French, but maybe she hoped that one day I get to read them so she wrote in English – risking not being able to fully express herself in her adopted tongue. Lyra was right though - Delphine made no mention of me, of us, in her notes for nearly 10 years since my mother’s funeral. But reading her words now, the question that has lingered deep in the recesses of my heart and mind for almost 54 years becomes louder and heavier with every hit of my joint and every turn of a journal’s page.

‘ _What if I didn’t leave her?'_

\-----

_October 5, 1972_

_Not only am I an orphan, I am now also a widow. People in my life have a habit of leaving me – Maman, Cosima, and now Christophe. Mon dieu, Christophe...barely 40 years old and now gone._

_I got the phone call three days ago during a slow afternoon at work. Scott was talking to me about Mark who brought home his new girlfriend, Gracie – the preacher’s daughter, for dinner. We were laughing because Krystal panicked, broke a well-manicured nail, and ended up serving burnt meatloaf to everyone.  A phone rings and I answer. The voice on the other line was tense and looking for me. There was an accident at one of the oil rigs that Christophe was inspecting, the voice said. A crane gave way, the voice explained. 5 people were killed. We’re very sorry, Mrs. Moulin, the voice said, trying to be sympathetic. Come to the hospital now, the voice commanded._

_All I can think about is my daughter. How do I tell Lyra she lost her Papa?_

_\-----_  

I always pondered that the question has two answers. Leaving Delphine that night was an act of self-preservation: a way for me to continue living by being as far away from her as possible - hoping that the distance between us will extinguish all my hopes and visions of a lifetime together with her, while killing everything I feel for her along the way. For years - even up to now, if I’m being completely honest - I have been tirelessly convincing myself that leaving her was the right thing to do. She needs to be there for her family - especially for her little girl, so to hell with my feelings and dreams of her, of us.

The second answer is less altruistic but is equally selfish. I stay with Delphine, I become the other woman, and I take what I can get. From stolen kisses, to secret letters, to coded postcards, to discreet rendezvous for passionate lovemaking, I’ll take ‘em - to hell with whoever gets hurt along the way. Because at the end of the day, I love her and she loves me, we can be together and we can work it out. While I have convinced myself all these years that that won’t work, I have also had so many dreams and fantasies of staying with Delphine - of being able to touch and kiss her whenever I want; of raising her daughter together; of settling with her in the cabin here in Wyoming; of the two of us working in the ranch; of going home with her as we walk hand-in-hand with her child – our child really, for I will love her as my own; of waking up late at night and being comforted with the reality that she’s just a foot away, sleeping peacefully beside me; of growing old together; of building a life filled with memories together. 

Reading her journals has brought about another question with the potential to stay with me until the day I die: If I had known the fate that awaited Christophe in 1972 _,_ would I have stayed with her that night?

\-----

_Surrounded by people – by Christophe’s family and friends from work, I held Lyra tight as we cried while they lowered the casket. I cry for my daughter - my one treasure in this world - who has lost her father. I cry because I have lost my husband - a friend since I was a child, the father of ma poulette, and my last connection to my life in La Tuque with Maman._

_But I also cry because of guilt, because of relief._

_I am free. I can stop pretending now._

_\-----_

Trying to find a sensible answer to this new question would be nothing but an exercise in futility. It would be pointless to try to make sense of it because whatever answer I come up with will not matter. No matter how eloquent and waterproof my reasoning is, it wouldn’t have the ability to change anything. Delphine lived her life and I lived mine. We both moved on and it’s all in the past now.

Or I thought it was until Delphine’s daughter showed up on my front porch four days ago.

I have only known two Lyras in all my life, experiences, and travels. The first is Señora Lyra Ibarra de Luna – an old widow from Guadalajara who in 1976, commissioned me to produce sketches and drawings of her late husband’s hacienda. The second and more important one is Delphine’s Lyra – the child who has become part of the dreams I have of a life with her mother. When Kira knocked on my door and told me that someone named Lyra Smith was looking for me, I almost told her to tell her off, but the need to put a face on a fantasy and the possibility that she would lead me to Delphine trumped my sense of self-preservation and my ability to think straight.

I couldn’t hide my excitement when I first saw her. I took a good look at her before coming out of the porch and I noticed that although she has a strong resemblance to her father, the important features of her face are undeniably Delphine’s. Her hair may be a shade darker, but they are curly and bouncy, styled in the same seemingly-effortless way that Delphine used to wear her hair. She has her mother’s eyes – hazel, round, and very expressive. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that she also has beauty marks albeit in different places - one on the right side of her face just below her chin, and one near her left eye. It made me remember how I loved to kiss Delphine’s freckles – the one on the tip of her nose, and the one on the left side of her face just below her chin.

If I close my eyes while she speaks, I can almost fool myself into thinking that she’s Delphine. But that illusion was shattered when she told me with that voice that Delphine is dead. And then she asked me for permission to let her scatter Delphine’s ashes at the cabin on the range. And then she handed me these journals. And then she told me stories of how Delphine remembered me even when she was sick. And then she kept asking about Orion and all I can think about is tracing the marks on Delphine’s back with my fingers, lips, and tongue. And then she kept showing up and I began to look forward to it, even if she brings along with her a barrage of memories of the person I have loved the most in this world. Every time she comes here, she reminds me that for the longest time, I have been towing a mountain of regret for not doing my best to find Delphine – instead, I focused all my attention and efforts in doing the exact opposite: running away from her as much as I can.

Even if I know it’s bad for me, I light up another joint – I’m in my 80s, I can indulge a little every once in a while without being worried about life extension. Maybe that’s also the reason why I want to get to know Lyra and her family better – I’m old and I’ve got nothing to lose anymore. I blow out a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke as I remember the anger I suddenly felt when Lyra asked about how Kira and Delphine met. As I replay the recent events in my head, a new kind of fear grips me – the fear that the daughter of the only woman I completely loved walked out of this house believing that I love her mother less, or worse, that I never loved her at all which made leaving her easy for me.

My mind is far from clear. My heart has never been at peace since our separation. The questions – both old and new – still latch on to my soul. My life has always been a combination of light and dark, of what is and of what could have. But amidst the uncertainties and unanswered questions, I have decided that I will set the record straight with Lyra first thing tomorrow.

For now though, there are memories of Delphine to unpack. There still lies inside me a strong yearning for her that I will acknowledge tonight - that never really went away in spite of time and distance. And there is a particular sadness and ache for our what-might-have-beens that I will cry about. The night is still young and I have all kinds of time. 

I’ve loved Delphine completely and I love her still.  Sometimes, it’s as simple as that.


	9. Journal Entry # 231 / October 31, 1983

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We shift back to Lyra’s point of view in this chapter.

Another sleepless night is what my room had in store for me when I came back from Cosima’s ranch. Last night, I can’t stop thinking about Orion on the signs, on the urn, and on my bedroom ceiling. Now, the restlessness is stemming from a sinking feeling that my assumption of Cosima loving Maman as much as Maman loved her has been debunked. After all, the evidence against the assumption is abundant: Cosima’s incessant need to be as far away from Delphine as possible; rejecting Maman’s offer to stay not only for that night in 1962, but in her life; and some of Maman’s journal entries.

Mon dieu, I could kill for some cigarettes right now.

 

\-----

_October 31, 1983_

_I know it’s selfish of me to expect Cosima to put her life on hold until we meet again, until we find each other again. But I wanted to be selfish with her – with the very few moments we had and the few ounces of hope that I still have left for us._

_But seeing her now, a few feet away from me as she is being caressed and kissed by another – with the whole world around them seemingly melting away as they look into each other’s eyes – was all I need to realize that not only was I selfish, I was also foolish._

_Mon dieu, I could kill for some whiskey right now._

_\-----_

 

I had to quit smoking a few years ago when my doctor essentially asked me to pick between giving up coffee and giving up cigarettes. I was having frequent migraines at work that couldn’t be alleviated by over-the-counter drugs and migraine sticks. So I went to a doctor and when the lab results and medical exams came out clean and clear, the only solution is simple: eat better, try to integrate exercise in my lifestyle, and kick either the caffeine or the nicotine out of my routine. I chose to stick with coffee – much to Maman and Gabi’s delight. On a night like this though when nothing is as simple as picking which vice to retain, I can’t possibly imagine not pairing my coffee with its long-lost sidekick: a big, fat, glowing stick of cigarette.

I run my hands through my hair before getting up from bed to put on a sweater and a robe. On my numerous drives back to the hotel, I have spotted a Kum & Go nearby and if I get out of my room and walk now, I can probably buy a pack or two. Given how heavy the things on my mind and heart are, I could probably finish a pack of Dunhill before Gabi and Lory get here.

The store was about to close when I arrived. Luckily the teenage boy working the registry was busy fiddling with his phone and has not yet closed the counter for the night. I bought a pack of cigarettes, a pink lighter, and a house blend coffee, and lit a stick as soon as I got out of the store. I cough during my first inhale as my mouth and lungs get re-acquainted with my nasty but comforting habit.

 

\-----

_Apart from the need for hard alcohol, I needed to get out of that gallery and smoke after seeing Cosima with another woman. My hands suddenly having an aching need to be holding something warm – and Cosima’s hands would no longer be available for that I think. Outside, my hands were shaking as I struggle to light a cigarette – probably because I haven’t smoked one in years. A man with wavy black hair saw my struggle and offered me a light which I appreciated with a nervous smile. I walked away, cigarette on hand, and tried not to look back, somehow relishing the small comfort that my hands are no longer empty, even if the warmth will only last for a few minutes._

_If only I had the courage to stay with her in the cabin. If only I had the courage to divorce Christophe and confess my truth. If only we lived in another time, a time like now, when society still frowns upon two women or two men being together but there are parts of this country where it is accepted and treated as nothing but normal. If only I fought harder that night in the motel room when she wanted to leave; If only I’d known where she has been._

_If only._

\-----

 

Life is complex and multi-faceted, I know as much. Nothing is ever black or white, or just right or just wrong. You can love someone and hate them at the same time. You can long for someone yet choose to stay as far away as humanly possible from that person. Coming to Wyoming is a complication I willingly took on not just because I wanted to fulfill my promise to Maman, but because I wanted to unravel the complexities of her decades-long love for this woman. After all, I didn’t come here naive expecting Cosima to just confess her undying love and devotion for my mother as soon as we met. I knew that life, circumstances, society, distance, and time have all done a number on them - that if love alone had been enough, Delphine would still be here with Cosima, and I’ll probably be here just visiting them. 

Looking back now, maybe it would have been wiser if I have kept things simple with Cosima: a quick introduction, a quick update on my dead mother, being business-like with her request about her ashes, declining her invitation for lunch, and making no mention of the journals. But at the very least, I came to Wyoming because I wanted and needed to put a face on this woman who my mother talked about endlessly when she can’t even recognize her own daughter; who taught her how to sketch and tie a Honda knot; who she loved with every fiber of her being even if she didn’t see her or even if she did see her happy with someone else.

 

\-----

_It’s funny I think, after a couple of cigarettes, that even if I’m hurting I’m also very happy. Happy that Cosima is doing so well as an artist. Happy that Cosima still seems so full of life, so strong. Happy that she seems to be in love with the woman I saw her with - a blonde, about the same height as her, attractive, and eccentrically well-dressed. I think they fit. I hope and wish that she is good to her, that she doesn’t hurt her the way I have in the past._

_Seeing them together is my cue, I think. That from now on, I should just be at peace with loving Cosima even if I know we cannot be together. I’ve had 26 years worth of experience in that. I think I could go another 26 years doing just that._

_I love Cosima Niehaus. I love her still. And I think I will always feel the same about her no matter what she does, who she’s with, and where she is._

_Sometimes acceptance is that simple._

_\-----_

How do you even love someone that way: from afar, with no guarantees or assurances of when the next kiss or conversation will take place, and knowing full well that they’re probably out there trying to give their love to someone else.

I guess on the surface, loving like that is difficult – there are no new and shared memories to keep the relationship going; no life to build together; no commonalities to discover, and no chance to talk about each other’s differences and opinions. But maybe it’s also easier to love that way – you just hold on to whatever perfect memory, image, and experience you have with them, and nothing changes because nothing new happens. The love can be perfectly preserved - accumulating dust and cobwebs over time, but it will always be there.

Was it hard for Maman to love Cosima that way? Or was it easy? Does it even matter if it’s difficult or not? Will it matter to Maman if Cosima loved her less than she did? Who’s even counting? Who’s even measuring? There are no definitive answers to that question – I don’t think there ever were.   But in the small amount of time I’ve spent with Cosima, I think I have realized why Maman loved her until the very end. Cosima is full of life, kind, beautiful, passionate, giving, and wickedly talented. I may know very little about art or what constitutes good art, but I know I would pay top dollar to have her drawings hanging in my house.

All her works that I’ve seen evoked an emotion or memory that I have either forgotten about or never really knew I had in the first place. Her sketch of Ennis – the way she captured his eyes and the lines on his face, made me miss Papa even if I never really got to know him before he passed. It made me sad that he would never have those wrinkles on his face because he died young. The dandelion drawing hanging on her hallway – its seeds flying away while the flower is firmly planted on intricately-drawn blades of grass, made me remember not only afternoons spent blowing dandelion seeds with Maman but also times that I cried as a child when its winter and dandelions were not in bloom. One of her curated works hanging in a San Francisco gallery that I visited – an image of a cliff with patches of prairie-fire growing on them, made me feel somehow peaceful and calm even if the pain of losing Maman was still very fresh. And while my attention was on Orion, I have to admit that the funny-looking herd of sheep in her Paradise Ranch signs reminded me of weekend mornings spent watching cartoons, sitting in front of the TV with a blanket wrapped around me.

It’s not that she draws what we mere mortals with untrained eyes cannot see. I just think she looks at her subject with brand new eyes all the time, bringing out perspectives and viewpoints we don’t even consider to appreciate. And I think that the way she draws and sketches spills over to the way she loves – she sees the person as a whole, bringing out facets and complexities not even acknowledged or appreciated by the other people in their lives. Cosima saw all of Delphine – the good, the bad, the possibilities, her fears, and her hopes. She saw past her beauty and pierced her soul, and because of that she has taken a permanent residence in my mother’s heart.

It’s inevitable, really, for how can you not fall deeply in love with someone who sees all of you and still loves all of you amidst your imperfections and complications?        

There are just some nights like this when all I can do is clutch on to a cup of coffee and cigarettes for some sense of clarity. After drinking all the coffee I bought, I realized I’ve smoked half a pack as I try to get another cigarette.  The cigarettes have done their job for the night – for every puff to make me so tired and light-headed that all I want to do is sleep and delay dealing with these thoughts of Delphine and Cosima for at least one more day. Now back in my room and on the bed, I can only hope I haven’t fuck things up bad enough to the point that I wouldn’t be able to even keep my promise to Maman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A confession: When I finished reading Transhumance, Cosima having an art exhibit sometime during the 1980s was the first thing that popped in mind. I imagined that Delphine would be there...but at that time, I was re-watching OB Season 3 with my girlfriend so instead of a happy reunion, I came up with this downer of a story that you are patiently reading right now (and again, thank you very much for reading this, and for leaving kudos and comments).
> 
> I have a feeling that I’m going to write the other story with a happier ending after the conclusion of this fic – and there are only a few chapters to go (around 4?) so thank you for continuing to bear with me as I get this story across. 
> 
> Of course, big thanks again to tumblweed for sharing the words that inspired this story.


	10. August 29, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No journal entry for this chapter, but we do go back and forth between Cosima and Lyra’s perspective.

In my more than 80 years of living, I think I have become some sort of couch connoisseur. I’ve slept on my fair share of couches and sofas from 1957 until around the late 70s when I finally decided to settle in San Francisco to draw and sketch full-time. The first couch I ever slept on indefinitely - Sarah and Cal’s flea market find, was like a torture device that no amount of sheets or duvets can make comfortable. The second couch I spent some serious time with was located in a basement in Georgia and is owned by Cal’s parents, who gave me a job in their printing office while I took classes in the Art Institute of Atlanta. That one was a plaid pull-out sofa and an obvious step-up from their son’s blue and springy couch.

In between working and going to school, I’ve got acquainted with a slew of couches owned by friends, women I’ve spent a few meaningless and forgettable nights with, and people I barely know who hosted drunken parties.  It wasn’t until I found a job in advertising in New York during the mid 60s when I found myself sleeping on another person’s couch indefinitely. Emi’s couch is more of a loveseat and you have to essentially curl up into a ball just so you can fit. Perhaps the allure of sleeping with my back and limbs completely sprawled out on a bed is the main reason why I jumped into an ill-advised relationship with her.

I left that couch and that job in 1970 when I essentially chose to become a starving artist for hire. My financial and professional uncertainties naturally came with more unfamiliar couches and sofa-beds to sleep on, until I got my first big break. An eccentric Texan oil baron paid me to draw initial designs and perspectives of a private island camp and resort that he wanted to build. He seemed pretty happy with my work and he recommended me to a lot of his associates: rich middle-eastern businessmen who wanted self-portraits and family portraits; South American land barons who wanted drawings of their haciendas; and country club folks who wanted paintings of their palatial estates or their perfect idea of themselves. Eventually in the late 70s, I made enough money to move to San Francisco and to start drawing whatever I liked. Shortly after, a local gallery – the Anglim Gilbert Gallery – took notice of my work and hung them on numerous exhibits. That’s where I met Shay, one of the gallery’s curators who also dabbles in “holistic healing” in her free time.  

I did not spend a significant amount of time on Shay’s couch – a firm, wide, and comfortable gray-patterned 3-seater. I seem to have skipped the couch and jumped right into her bed. My time with her was good for the most part, and it wasn’t completely meaningless to be honest. But sometimes when I wake up late at night next to her, I can’t help but want to sleep on her couch instead – preferring solitude over the company of a beautiful woman whose interests may fit with mine, but whose beauty marks do not even come close to the mysterious intricacy of Delphine’s.

As the pull of sleeping on Shay’s couch got stronger and stronger over time, I decided to completely move out and get a place of my own – a small studio apartment that can barely accommodate a couch. By the mid 1990s, I came back home to Wyoming when Sarah and Cal wanted to retire and settle back to Florida. I converted my parent’s old bedroom into an art studio and it took a while for it to be completed mainly because I was always in search of the perfect couch.

I have found several great couches as time went by, and my back continues to thank me for my wise furniture choices. The couch I have now, a light brown 2-seater, is great for lounging around on if you want to read or smoke a joint, and also awesome for napping and sleeping. Today as I wake up from this couch to stretch my limbs, I can’t help but feel well-rested and ready to see Lyra again – even if my thoughts were restless last night. I figured that even if I’m the last person she wants to see or speak to right now, she has a right to know that my love for her Maman was not a lie – that that’s not possible. I have never felt the way I feel for Delphine with another person ever. So I get up from the comforts of my perfect couch to face whatever emotion and conversation this day holds for me.

I drove and arrived at Lyra’s hotel around mid-afternoon. I didn’t want to call her in advance about my visit, a bit afraid that she might try to evade me. As soon as I arrived, I saw Rudy who had a big smile on his face when he recognized me and my truck. I am happy to see that he’s doing well now after running with the wrong crowd when he was in high school. I went inside and approached a young lady behind the front desk.

 

“ _Hi, I’m Cosima Niehaus. I am meeting one of your guests here. Her name is Lyra Smith,_ ” I said.

“ _Oh, Dr. Cormier-Smith! Yes, I think she’s in, Ma’am. Please take a seat while I call her room,_ ” the lady said as she points to one of the plush seats near the hotel’s entrance.

“ _Cormier-Smith_ ,” I whisper to myself with a grin as I sat down to wait.   

 

\-----

I woke up today feeling heavy and low. Maybe it’s nothing but the after-effects of my chain-smoking from last night, but whatever it is, it robbed me of the strength to get up from bed and eat breakfast. When I had no other choice but to get up and eat, I realized that the usually good cafe coffee didn’t even make a dent in improving my mood or outlook for today. After an uneventful meal, I took a bath in the hopes that I could get myself out of whatever funk I’m in.  While that managed to get me clean, erasing the smell of nicotine in my fingers in the process, it didn’t work in uplifting my mood. So I now find myself sipping another cup of coffee by an open window to let out my cigarette’s smoke while also trying to air out the tobacco smell in the room. I was looking at my almost-empty pack, contemplating whether I should go for a quick run to Kum & Go when the phone rang.

 

“ _Hello?_ ” 

“ _Hi, Dr. Cormier-Smith. This is Coley from the front desk. I have your guest waiting for you in the lobby._ ”

_“Guest? Who is it?”_

_“A Miss Cosima Niehaus, Ma’am.”_

 

After the things we said last night, she was the last person I was expecting to show up in my hotel’s doorstep. During my third cigarette stick of the day, around 9 a.m. before breakfast, I had a thought that if Cosima was still pissed at me and the memories she has to rehash because of me, I’ll just bring my family to Paradise Ranch on the 31st and emotionally blackmail her into letting me scatter Maman’s ashes on the range. Now that she’s here, I am nervous but hopeful that at the very least, I would still get to fulfill Maman’s dying wish so I tell Coley that _“I’ll be right down”._

From the staircase, I see Cosima reading a blue spiral notebook as she waits for me. I make my way to where she’s seated and managed to give her a polite smile. “ _I see you’re in the 80s now,_ ” I tell her as I point to the journal she’s clutching on.

“ _Hi, Lyra,_ ” she said smiling with her head tilted a bit. “ _Can we go somewhere to talk?_ ”

I nod and lead her to the hotel’s cafe. By this time, the waiter already knows me enough to know that I prefer a table by the window and a cup of hot freshly-brewed black coffee. Cosima orders a cup of tea and a cinnamon roll, while I went with a moist chocolate cake to pair with my cup, hoping that the sweet treat will help uplift my spirits.

There was an awkward silence as soon as the waiter finished taking our orders. “ _I’m sorry,_ ” Cosima said as I was saying “ _How are you?_ ” and we smiled a bit. “ _You first, Cosima,_ ” I tell her so I can buy some time to figure out what to say.

“ _Okay, Lyra,”_ she said as she clears her throat before speaking again. _“I’m sorry for last night, for being short with you. I just want you to know that after last night, I realized that you have a right to know anything you want to know about your mother and me.”_ She pauses to drink her tea, her eyes never leaving my face as she does so. “ _So from now on,_ ” she said after a sip, “ _I’m going to be honest with you, so ask away._ ”

I nod and give her a smile – probably the lightest, most effortless smile I have given today. “ _I’d like to be honest with you too, Cosima. I’ve been trying to do that, but I think I’ve been doing a bad job of it. I know you also have questions for me about Maman, so ask away too,_ ” I said.

“ _So who should go first?_ ” Cosima cheekily inquired.

“ _How about you go first, Cosima. It’s only right – you’re the one who made an effort to come here. I was just content to spend the day inside my room and not deal with it._ ”

 

\-----

My mind is racing with the many, many questions I have about Delphine’s life and about the things I’ve read in her diaries. _‘Where do I even start?’_ I ask myself as I watch Lyra drink her coffee and take the first bite of her chocolate cake.  “ _Okay,_ ” I said, remembering something recent. “ _I just found out that your name is Lyra Cormier-Smith..._ ”

“ _Yes, that’s my full name,_ ” Lyra said, looking a bit confused at what I’m trying to get at. “ _Yeah, I kinda expect you to be a Moulin-Smith,”_ I explained, _“for you to take on your dad’s last name. I guess what I’m trying to ask is why are you a Cormier?_ ”

Lyra’s brows furrowed a little at my question before giving a shy smile that I have noticed to be quite similar with Delphine’s. “ _Maman never changed her last name, never took Papa’s name,_ ” she said matter-of-factly. “ _I remember them fighting about it often, so I asked Maman about it when I was around 12 and she said she wanted to keep the last name Cormier because of her Maman,_ ” suddenly I remember the few mentions that Delphine made of her mother when we were in the mountains, and how I wished we had more time to talk about her.

Lyra looked at me curiously while I was trying to recall the stories Delphine and I shared. “ _Maman said Papa didn’t like it, but her Maman was involved so he couldn’t do anything but agree,”_ she said. _“She also told me that before I was born, Maman was able to convince Papa for me to take the Cormier last name, and that when I turn 18 I can decide on my own if I’d want to be a Moulin or a Cormier-Moulin. By that time though, Maman was all I have left. I love Papa, I do – I have a lot of good memories of him. He took care of me, loved me, and he gave me life. But I just didn’t know him well enough and it felt wrong for me to brush out the Cormier, so I stuck with it._ ”

What she said answered my question, but it didn’t answer the subtle inquiry that came with it – ‘ _Why did Delphine never take Christophe’s last name?_ ’, and as if she can sense it, Delphine’s little girl sipped some water, before saying. “ _Post Alzheimer’s diagnosis though, Maman said that it didn’t feel right to take Papa’s last name when she wanted to take someone else’s last name. ‘Cosima’s’ Maman told me,_ ” before giving me a closed and polite smirk.

Try as I might not to react too much to what she said, I can feel a blush forming on my cheeks and I couldn’t help but grin.

“ _Your turn, my child,_ ” I said.

 

\-----

It was easy for me to think of my first question for Cosima – after all, it has been in my head, piquing my curiosity, for a few days now. “ _Cosima, can you tell me about you and Maman’s Orion?_ ” I finally asked, fully expecting an answer and not a pivot.

Cosima takes a good bite of her cinnamon roll and dabs her thumb on the corner of her mouth as she wipes away the crummies. “ _It’s actually a little silly...and it might make you cringe since she’s your mom,_ ” she said as she swallows her bread.

I can’t help but laugh at what she said. “ _Believe me, Cosima, it’ll be fine. My Maman went on and on about your err...time together, in a lot of my visits, so just tell me,_ ” I said.

She nods and smiles, “ _okay. I told her in one of our, what do you call it - ‘times together’ ”_ she said with air quotes and a healthy dose of cheekiness, “ _that she has an almost perfect beauty mark of constellation Orion on her back. She was just missing one mole: Bellatrix – Orion’s right shoulder._ ”

I honestly didn’t know that. I never even noticed Maman’s moles and their patterns even when she can’t be left to her own devices and we had to help her with changing clothes and bathing. “ _She must have loved your observation,”_ I said _. “You know, she pasted your version of Orion on my bedroom ceiling – right next to constellation Lyra. She used to sleep beside me all the time so we could look at the stars,_ ” I shared. “ _It was part of my childhood and when I saw it the first time on my way over, I knew it had something to do with you and what you and Maman shared._ ”

Cosima sheds a tear while also trying to fashion a smile. “ _It’s one of the many things,_ ” she said as she clears her throat, “ _that is distinctly her - that is distinctly missing from the others who followed...after her. It’s an image that is always at the back of my head – and when I was losing hope of ever seeing it again in the flesh, I began to put it in the ranch signs and even randomly in some of my sketches,_ ” she said.

“ _Those who followed..._ ”I let the phrase roll out of my tongue, feeling a bit ashamed that in her heartfelt disclosure, all I picked up on is that there were other women in her life aside from Maman. Other women who had what my mother couldn’t: a semblance of a relationship with somebody she completely loved.

“ _Yes,”_ she said, her smile now gone from her lips and replaced by a more serious and a bit guilty look as she continued, _“you’ve read her journals so you know that she saw me with Shay._ ”

 

\-----

I didn’t want to talk about Shay, my ex, with the daughter of the love of my life, but she has read her mom’s journals and I just found out last night that Delphine actually saw us together, so I had to risk it and ask. “ _What was Delphine doing in San Francisco?”_

I can see that Lyra was quite discomforted with my question – as if the answer is related to an awful memory or experience. Regardless of whether the memory or experience is related to something her Maman wrote or said to her about that day, it was a relief when she answered my question in the spirit of total honesty.

“ _She was there with her friend, Krystal – who also happens to be Gabi’s mom if you recall from her notes during the 70s. At that time, Gabi was just starting her post-grad at Berkeley, fresh from a yearlong break from school after finishing her undergrad and...Anyway, Krystal was there to help her settle back in and Maman came along for the trip. I was supposed to be there too, but I ended up not going with them..._ ”

Sensing that the source of her hesitation might be intertwined with memories of her wife and not with my then-relationship with Shay, I pressed further: “ _And how did she find about my art exhibit?_ ”

Lyra was more direct in answering my follow-up question. _“Krystal told me that she and Maman were in a salon – Maman was getting her hair done and Krystal was having a manicure.”_ Lyra said as she runs her hands through her hair. _“One minute they were talking while Maman was reading a local newspaper...then all of a sudden Maman was making a mad dash out of the salon and said something about meeting her in Gabi’s apartment - she just needed to go somewhere important at that very moment. I think the arts section of the paper mentioned your exhibit and she left to see it, to see you._ ”

“ _Transhumance_ ,” I said as she looks up after finishing her coffee. “ _That was the name of the exhibit. Drawings, paintings, and sketches of the Summer of 1957 Big Horn Mountains, Wyoming. Our last summer...our only summer together._ ”

“ _And you were kissing another woman during that exhibit,_ ” she said in a deadpan manner as she places her spoon on a saucer.

 

\-----

I didn’t catch myself when the vitriol-laced words escaped my mouth. “ _I’m sorry,_ ” I immediately said while I reach for Cosima’s arm. “ _I know I don’t have the right to judge or say anything about how you chose to live your life...And what I said, it just came out and I wasn’t thinking. I’m really sorry, Cosima._ ”

She gives me a look that reminds me of how Maman used to glare at me when I did something foolish or disappointing. “ _Nah, I deserve that, Lyra. I didn’t try hard enough..._ ”

“ _Why didn’t you though?_ ” I asked. “ _You’ve read her journals, you knew she came to Wyoming once a year from ‘73 up until ’82, hoping you’ll show up in your ranch and she’ll see you,_ ” I said, giving her a chance to explain herself. “ _I wish she wrote you letters, maybe that would have made things possible for you two. But I think she wanted to see you first – she wanted to see if she can get you to love her again. If there’s still a chance...”_

She was silent and I was afraid that I have again placed myself on thin ice as I nervously looked at the waiter and gestured for tea and coffee refills. “ _There’s no defense for what I did or didn’t do_ ” Cosima said, her voice almost a whisper, “ _and I’m not going to make any excuses either._ ” The waiter arrives at our table and we remain silent until he finishes pouring our drinks.

“ _Even if she wrote me and sent it to the ranch,_ ” Cosima exhaled, “ _I wouldn’t have received her letters. I was only in Wyoming once during that time – a couple of weeks in September 1975 when Dad got sick and passed away. I called Sarah at least twice a month so we can check up on each other, but most of the time she had no idea where I was exactly.”_

She looks out the window trying to regain her senses and bearings. _“The fault is mine, Lyra. Your Maman tried...and I gave up,_ ” she said while looking out.

_“No you didn’t give up,”_ I say to her surprise. “ _You said yesterday that Ennis gave you our Montana address and you went,_ ” I say as I fiddle with my wrist watch. “ _That’s not giving up. But you did have a lead with Montana and you could have asked our neighbors - they’d know about Canada...So why didn’t you?_ ” I said.

Cosima stirs the honey in her tea while she spoke. “ _I was afraid to find her and see her again,_ ” she said, “ _because I know that one glimpse of her is more than enough for me to want her – all of her – all over again. And when that happens, it would only be a matter of time until we hurt people we care for and love - your father and you most especially. She loved you more than anything and anyone in this world, Lyra, and I didn’t want my desire of a life with her to cause you any pain._ ”

“ _So you martyred yourself and went as far away as possible from Maman for that not to happen?_ ” I ask, my hands shaking and begging to hold a cigarette to deal with these emotions.

_“Yes,”_ she said. “ _I stayed away because I was hoping against hope that I could quit her. I wasn’t very successful at that too, Lyra...”_ she pauses, “ _because after all this time, I love her still, and nobody even came close._ ”

 

 -----

I remove my glasses to wipe away errant tears that usually precede inconsolable weeping. I had to put my heart out there so that Lyra will have no doubt of my simple truth, a truth devoid of reasoning and pragmatism: that no matter how much I ran away from it or how hard I try to wish it away, I love Delphine Cormier and she is still my heart’s one and only desire. I think she needed to hear that – needed to know that her mother is so deeply and purely loved, even if it’s by someone as flawed and imperfect as me.  

I can see the tears forming in Lyra’s eyes and I want to reach out and wipe them away - like a parent does when their child gets hurt. But I decide to keep my hands to myself, allowing Lyra her space to process what we have been talking about in the past couple of hours or so. “ _You know, I went to La Tuque in 1977. It was for a commissioned work, but I remember spending a week there. Imagining that I was walking the same streets that Delphine used to walk on when she was there._ ”

“ _We never went back to La Tuque,_ ” Lyra said. “ _I think that like the pain of losing you, the pain of losing her Maman was so unbearable for her she that she couldn’t go back._ ”

“ _You said you had a ranch in Canada, why did you move there?_ ” I ask her, changing the subject a little.

“ _Before Papa died, he was in talks with one of his brothers – Oncle Marcel – about buying a ranch up in British Columbia from an old couple who couldn’t run it anymore. Nothing came out of that – Oncle Marcel didn’t have enough capital for it. But when Papa died, Maman couldn’t bear staying in Montana. After all, she also loved Papa – just different from the way she loved you, and I think not as much as she loved you..._ ” Lyra said.

“ _I want to say sorry about that too, Lyra,”_ I said as the guilt of what we’ve done to Christophe sinks in again. “ _Your father was a good man. I didn’t mean to betray him._ ”

“ _Thank you, Cosima. But I understand - we couldn’t control who we love. I know as much,_ ” Lyra said. I give her a quizzical look, as I try to figure out what life experiences could she have lived through that made her understand and know that. 

“ _Anyway,”_ she said, _“when Papa died, we had a somewhat sizeable amount of money from his life insurances and from his company - enough for Maman to buy that ranch. So we moved. When Scott, Gabi’s dad, was laid-off from work, Maman offered for him and Krystal to join us there – to be business partners. And that’s how the Cormier-Moulin-Smith Ranch started. I think you should visit us. I wish you can visit us there._ ”

“ _Cormier-Moulin-Smith, that sounds like a law firm not a ranch,”_ I joked. “ _But you know what Lyra, I might just take you up on that offer. I have never been to British Columbia._ ”

_“Well it’s set then!”_ Lyra said with a slightly excited smile. “ _Just tell us when and we’d be happy to have you, Cosima._ ”

I smile amidst the sad memories and guilt because I feel hopeful that in the twilight of my life, I have been given the gift of friendship by none other than my Delphine’s daughter. In all her journals, I can feel the pride Delphine had for her daughter which made me look forward to afternoons like this when she allows me to get to know her and her family more.  

I glance at the clock on the cafe and see that it’s getting a bit late. Not wanting to drive at night, I say goodbye to Lyra and thanked her for spending time with me and for answering my questions. I know that we both have more to ask each other, but I am hopeful that we would have more days to talk about them. As we stand up from our table to go our separate ways – me to my truck and her to her room, she comes in for a hug that I warmly welcomed. As we held each other, a thought passes through my mind – “ _I would have loved to have you as my daughter, Lyra. I would have spoiled you rotten._ ”

She was standing at the hotel’s entrance to see me off when she said: “ _Just one more question for today, Cosima...”_ I look at her inquisitively through the passenger seat’s window, “ _are we on for tomorrow – the family dinner and sleepover?_ ”

I give her a wide smile. “ _You bet ma poulette._ ” She returns my term of endearment with a genuine smile as I drive away from the hotel.


	11. Journal Entry # 239 / January 6, 1984

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be a long chapter so I cut in two and I’m putting both up today. The chapter shifts from Cosima to Lyra’s perspective.

The task of getting this house ready for Delphine’s family started at the crack of dawn when Kira began barking orders for everybody to get up and change all the beddings in all the rooms. Yesterday, I came home from meeting Lyra at the hotel to the sound of Kira’s boys, George and Felix, telling an animated story about catching Cher and Stairstone – our two best stock horses who according to Felix are also ‘ _sworn frenemies_ ’, getting it on in the stables one afternoon in July. “ _Oh,_ _I think Stairstone and Cher got hammered on some contraband barley and just said fuck it,_ ” Felix said as his parents laughed, before he saw me leaning against the front door with a grin as he came over for a bear hug.

 “ _Auntie Cos! Mom has been telling me that we have guests coming. Is it really her? Your Delphine’s daughter?_ ” he asks.

“ _Yes, Felix,_ ” I say. “ _They’re coming over tomorrow so we have to clean this place up. How’s the cabin?_ ” I asked.

“ _Cabin’s stocked and cleaned – at least cleaned the best we can,_ ” George said as he walks towards me from the living room. “ _It’s so good to see you, Cosima,_ ” he said, welcoming me with a kiss on my cheek.

My family has known about Delphine ever since I framed and hung a series of small 3-by-5 drawings and sketches of her in the cabin. I have only drawn two lovers in my life: Ruth - my first, and Delphine - the love of my life, and it was only her drawings that I framed and put out in the open. After Delphine, I found no fulfillment in drawing sketches of the women I’ve been with. I never asked to draw them and actively avoided doing it, but when they did insist on posing for me, I usually find myself either comparing them to her or imagining they’re her - which only makes me melancholic and angry, and often leads to an invitation for them to pick a fight with me about my crabby mood.

My drawings of Delphine in the cabin were the first works I finished since moving back to Wyoming from San Francisco. It was my way of expressing my silent surrender to the universe – that after all the years of running away from what I feel for her, Delphine is still the one I love and she’s still the one I picture beside me as I go through life. When I finished it and framed them, it felt like coming home for some reason. And when I finally hanged them, I found some semblance of peace.

When all the beddings were replaced with clean and freshly-laundered ones, Kira asked Felix and me to do the groceries, while she and George vacuum and clean around the house. I grab my coat and pocket Kira’s grocery list as Felix makes his way to the truck. The drive to the local market and grocery is an enjoyable and welcome respite from all the prep work taking place at the farm house. I look out the window with a seemingly newfound appreciation for my hometown as I feel Felix taking a glance at me as he turned off the radio.

“ _Auntie Cos, mom has been filling me in. I’m sorry about Delphine. How are you?_ ” Felix asked - his voice unusually somber as he changes gears.

“ _Thanks, Fee,_ ” I manage to reply. “ _I’m sad of course – I’ll never get to see her, hold her, or talk to her again. But at the same time, I feel like I’m gaining something - a sense of who she is and the life she had,_ ” I said, trying my best to explain how my sadness about losing Delphine forever and my delight for having been given a chance at meeting Lyra and her family have put me in a roller-coaster of emotions these past few days. “ _If anything,_ ” I added while Felix focuses on the road ahead, “ _I look forward to the day when we will see each other again._ ”

My own words caught me a bit by surprise. I never believed in a higher power, much more the concept of an afterlife. While I’ve always attended church during special occasions as a young girl, I’ve always questioned if there is anybody up there who’s actually listening to our hymns and prayers. I’ve always been skeptical about the existence of an omnipotent and omniscient being in charge of our fate, who then builds a different world for us when we depart the world of the living.  As I become older and more experienced - and as a result, more jaded, I was more convinced that when we die, we just die and stop existing altogether; that there is nobody to blame but us for the chances we missed, the mistakes we made, the emotional baggage we carried,  the decisions we poorly made, and the destiny we lived. But then when Lyra told me of Delphine’s passing, I have never felt a stronger urge to be proven wrong about God and life after death.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sigh. “ _Don’t say that, Cos,_ ” Felix said while he darted a concerned look my way. “ _Besides bad weeds never die – or at least we die last,_ ” he adds with a forced sly smile, trying to lighten the mood inside the car. I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his wisecrack.

“ _So Fee,_ ” I said in my attempt to change the subject, “ _Excited to get out of here in a week?_ ” Like me, Felix is an artist - an aspiring painter, who is starting his apprenticeship next week with Rachel Duncan: a Savannah-based artist prominent for her postmodern works, impeccable technique, unique eye for detail, and a reputation for not taking in apprentices due to her firm belief that nobody can be that good enough to be under her tutelage.

“ _Yeah, I guess,_ ” he said with obvious hesitation.

“ _Oh please, Fee, thrill me with excitement about your opportunity of a lifetime,_ ” I cleverly quipped. “ _Care to talk about it?_ ”

Felix makes a turn towards the main road and purses his lips as he tries to figure out if he wants to let me on in his thoughts about leaving Wyoming. “ _I know Mom and Dad are very supportive about this, but they’re not getting any younger – Dad even had the flu while we were in the highlands and I can tell that the travel yesterday took a lot out of him. They need all the help they can get to keep the ranch up and running. Plus, I don’t even know if I’m that good anyway,_ ” he said.

His thoughts made me remember my own insecurities as an artist and my struggles with my decision to leave the ranch in 1957. While it was heartache and the prospect of continuous heartbreaks over Delphine that were the driving forces behind my decision to skip town, even before Delphine I’ve always wanted to know about the kind of life I can have outside the expanse of Paradise Ranch – if both versions of myself: the closeted ranch/farm girl and the out artist, has a place under the sun.

“ _Felix, stop the car and listen to me,_ ” I said urging him to park in a curb to hear my words. “ _You’re dealing with a false dilemma here. Just because you can have a different life outside Wyoming doesn’t mean you’re abandoning the life you have here. Take it from an old bat like me, you can love being a rancher and you can also love being a painter. You can even love one life over the other - as long as there are enough spaces and emotions in you for both lives to happen, that doesn’t matter. Don’t ever think that choosing one life over the other will ruin anything.”_

Felix looks at me and nods. “ _Besides,_ ” I add, “ _Rachel has seen your work and she recognizes the talent and potential. This is a good thing, Fee, take it. You’re allowed to be a little selfish about your dreams sometimes._ ” He gives me a wry smile – a sign that my little pep talked got under his skin somewhat - as he pulls out of the curb to continue driving to the store. “ _Colin is thrilled actually,_ ” he smirks. “ _He’s been looking at possible apartments for us, but every place he likes just doesn’t do anything for me. That boy is seriously misguided about what makes for a great apartment. We’ve been arguing about it for a month now._ ”

I can’t help but feel sharp pangs of jealousy when Felix decided to talk about Colin and their future living arrangements in Savannah. Colin is Felix’s long-time boyfriend who works at the local coroner’s office and is essentially moving his entire life so that Felix can pursue his artistic dreams. As he talks about one particular cheap loft apartment that Colin found online that seems too good to be true, I kept hearing myself saying: ‘ _God, what I would give to have had that problem with Delphine_ ’. What pains me worse now is the fact that I could have had that – maybe not in 1957 but in the years after – and I chose to consistently give up and walk far away from it.

If only we lived in a different time.

We finally reach the grocery and I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and get some air - the emotional rollercoaster seemingly never-ending. 

 

\-----

“ _Checking out already, Miss Cormier-Smith? How was your stay with us?_ ” Susan from the hotel’s front desk asked me as I carefully put my luggage down while I settle my account.

“ _It was good, Susan, thank you for everything,”_ I said sincerely. While I never got to read about the hotel’s famous guests or check out all the historic amenities that it has to offer, I really enjoyed my short stay here. Although I had nights when my sleep was fitful at best, that wasn’t the hotel’s fault and it was mostly due to the emotions that I went through in the process of getting to know Cosima and her relationship with Maman more. It was all worth it though because not only do I get to fulfill Maman’s wishes, I also got a sense of who Cosima is and why my mother loved her until the very end. The prospect of having her as a friend after all the emotions and memories we uncovered and shared is just an added bonus.

Besides, it’s hard to feel melancholic when I’m on my way to pick up my wife and son from the airport. As a bellhop helps me load my bags in the car, I made sure that the red hard-shell suitcase where I meticulously packed Maman’s urn is securely fastened in my car’s boot. I haven’t told Cosima about Maman’s urn yet and after explaining to me yesterday what their Orion means, I really don’t know how she’s going to take it.

I cast all my worries and thoughts aside as I drive to cross state lines and head to Billings International Airport in Montana. While to me Buffalo, Wyoming was just a small part of my life prior to Maman’s revelations about Cosima, I have always had a soft spot for Montana. I grew up there and went to school there. And it is also in Montana where I met Gabi for the first time.

I still vaguely remember the day when Maman told me that some new friends are coming over for an afternoon barbecue at our house. While I was not the kind of child who easily made friends, I gravitated towards a young girl who talked about going on hikes with his brother in the woods during her free time. And as a child who preferred being indoors, her stories of seeing squirrels and catching frogs captivated my young imagination. Almost everything I remember about that afternoon was hazy except for the memories of meeting Gabi for the first time – what she wore (jumper pants and a white shirt), and what she looked like (brown eyes, toothy grin, long brown hair in pigtails). I don’t even remember what I was wearing that day but I still have a memory of the way she held my hand while we played tag and climbed trees. It wasn’t long before we became inseparable best friends – someone who I would always want to be a part of my life.

Though if somebody told me then that one day, I will end up marrying that same girl, I wouldn’t have believed it. Funny, how life sometimes works out even if you try your best to deny what you feel to everybody - including to yourself.       

Halfway through my drive to the airport, I receive a text from Gabi that they arrived safely at Denver from Vancouver and that their connecting flight to Billings is departing as scheduled. I smile as I reply a ‘ _Great, see you and Lory soon babe. I love you guys_ ’ as I pass by Wyola - a town I remember visiting twice with Maman when I insisted on going with her on some of her work trips. With no traffic in sight, I soon find myself right in The Rimrocks with the airport looming larger and larger with every kilometer I traverse. Inside the complex, I spent a good deal of time looking for a free parking spot when I finally lucked out on a minivan owned by a young family parked near the Arrivals section that was just about to pull out.

I check the time as I turn off the engine. It’s just a quarter past 12 in the afternoon – plenty of time for me to grab a quick to-go lunch for us before I wait for them to arrive. I pass by a deli in the airport lounge and bought three cups of coffee and an assortment of sandwiches. Now, here I am waiting in anticipation for a glimpse of my family as the flight display board just changed the Denver to Billings flight status from ‘ON-TIME’ to ‘ARRIVED’.

As I sit and wait, I remember when the roles were reversed – when it was Gabi, Lory, and Maman waiting for me to come out of the gate after days of travelling for work. As I sip my coffee and check my phone for any messages, I began remembering their faces, filled with happiness and relief, as soon as they see me emerge with my bags. I recall the last time Maman came with Gabi to fetch me from the airport. By then, she already had Alzheimer’s and instead of seeing happiness on her face when I arrived, I saw anticipation – a bit of excitement, as she said “ _Lyra is here, can we go to Florida now?_ ” Of course at that time, I had no idea what she meant so I just laughed and humored her by saying that we will go to Florida as soon as we get our bathing suits packed. It was a few months later when she began talking about Cosima when her fixation about going to Florida finally made sense to me.         

My musings were disturbed by a slight tap on my shoulder, “ _Hey pretty,_ ” the familiar voice said. I turn around and there she is – Gabi, my wife, on her tiptoes with a sheepish smile on her face coming in for a kiss and a hug. “ _I missed you, Ly,_ ” she whispered in my ear as we embrace. “ _I’m so happy you’re here,_ ” I say back as we momentarily let go of one another. “ _Where’s Lory?_ ” I asked as I look behind her.

“ _The kid is getting the bags,_ ” she said. “ _I saw you here and I couldn’t resist coming near you to..._ ” I lower myself to catch her lips as she comes in for another kiss – deeper compared to the peck we first shared today, “ _do that._ ” I blush at her words and I was about to return the favor when another voice joined our intimate conversation.

“ _I know that you are so in love with each other even after all these years, but it’ll be nice to get a hug around here before you suck face again, non?_ ”

“ _Mon chouchou,_ ” I said as Lory drops the luggage and I reach in for an embrace. “ _I missed you!_ ”

“ _Of course, I’m your favorite – I’m your only child,_ ” Lory kidded. “ _I missed you too, Maman. You look good._ ”

Gabi joined us as we hugged and we stayed that way for quite some time. When other arriving passengers and their families began bumping into us, we decided to head to the car. “ _So, Maman,_ ” Lory asked, “ _how’s Cosima? Is she nice?_ ”

“ _Yes,”_ I said. “ _She’s a nice, interesting, talented lady who has so much love for your Mémé Delphine. I’ve been learning a lot about her from Cosima these past few days actually, and I think you will have a lot to talk about,_ ” I added as we reach the car and I carefully put in their carry-on bags in the boot.

Lory nods and smiles as he goes to sit behind me on the backseat where he opens his sandwich. He has always been close to his Mémé, always electing to go to the ranch during school summer breaks to help out and spend some time with both my Maman and his grandparents from Gabi’s side, Scott and Krystal. But with my Maman, he seems to have a special connection – a bond made stronger by their strong physical resemblance, stories they only shared with each other, and little inside jokes that only they get and laugh about. When Maman died, Lory was obviously gutted, choosing to hole up in his room after the short service. When he did emerge days later, he decided to devote what remains of his school break to his thesis instead of staying at home with us.  

“ _So kid,_ ” I said as I maneuver out of the parking spot, “ _where’s this friend of yours, Andi? Your mom has been peppering me with stories about you and her these past few days. I thought she’d be here._ ”

“ _I’ve met her alright,_ ” Gabi said as she gets comfortable on the passenger seat and fastens her seatbelt. “ _She seems sweet and nice. And clearly, somebody has turned into a smitten kitten,_ ” she mischievously said as she mockingly points to Lory. She then grabbed her phone from her pocket to show me a photo of Andi and Lory taken in our house a few days ago. Looking at the picture, I have to admit that my son has good taste in women – a trait which, I think, runs in the family.

“ _She wanted to be here but she had to fly back to Seattle yesterday for school. You’d love her, Maman, she’s in pre-med,_ ” Lory explains. “ _And yes, I am smitten, there I said it, Mom,_ ” as he directs his gaze to his Mom. Gabi laughs as her ribbing obviously made Lory go red in the face. “ _But how did a sociology student meet a pre-med student?_ ” I curiously asked as we head back to the I-90.

“ _She was volunteering in the Cowlitz Tribal Health Services,”_ Lory said. _“And I was doing my thesis on the participation rates and effectiveness of elders programs on select Native American tribes and what these services mean to them. I interviewed her, found out we’re attending the same school, and then I asked for her number. We’ve been seeing each other since._ ”

“ _Smooooth..._ ” Gabi joked, “ _Who knew sociology can land you a hot date,_ ” to which Lory replied with a slightly vehement but clearly amused, “ _Stop it Mom, you’ve been at it since Canada!_ ” The joking and easy-going stories about school and what we’ve been up to these past few weeks filled the drive back to Wyoming, and while our exchanges may be ordinary and even boring to somebody on the outside looking or listening in, I wouldn’t trade our ordinary family’s musings for the world.

As I listen to Gabi’s story about trying and ultimately failing to cook a sensible dinner for them while I was away (Lory complained that Mom cooked some kind of weird vegetable sludge dish that Andi said ‘ _tasted interesting_ ’ -  which is just a euphemism for “ _ewww,_ ” he said), I can’t help but miss Maman – how she would have whipped up something nice for dinner, and how she would have lit up and gushed at the sight of her grandson falling in love for probably the first time in his life.

 _‘She lived a full life,’_ I think to myself. I just can’t help but wish for Delphine to have had a chance at the kind of ordinary and happy life I have with Gabi and Lory.

 

\-----

With the groceries done, we got home to a house that is almost ready for Lyra and her family. George is outside - busy checking the tires, fluids, and engine of the truck we will be using for tomorrow’s trip to the cabin. Inside, Kira was already in the kitchen waiting for us to deliver the remaining ingredients she needs for tonight’s dinner of sweet potato salad, roasted bison sirloin, and fry bread with cinnamon honey butter. At my insistence, we’re also doing some s’mores for dessert.  

As Kira pre-heats the oven while mixing herbs and spices, I decided to cash in my ‘ _I’m-old-and-get-tired-easily’_ card to excuse myself from her additional kitchen chores - which unfortunately have already captured Felix who is now making the bread’s honey spread. I went to my studio intending to take a nap so I can fully-function for tonight’s dinner and deal with all the emotions and memories it can potentially wake up. To pass the time, I picked up one of Delphine’s journals and began to read. 

\-----

 

_6 January 1984_

 

_‘One day you will have children and you will understand that their happiness is your own.’_

_My Maman told me this when I was younger and it stuck with me ever since. I often thought about these words when I was with Cosima up in the cabin, but my thoughts of it then were often laced with guilt - for how would my Maman be happy when my happiness is rooted on loving someone else completely while I’m married and carrying a child?_

_When I had Lyra, I thought I already understood what she was saying. The first time I saw and held her, I know I am going to do anything in my power to keep this little one happy and safe. But today is the day where I actually got it. Ma poulette is in love with Gabrielle and is clearly holding back, choosing to not do anything about it._

_Her happiness is my own, and I will not allow her to make the mistakes I made with Cosima._

\----

 

‘ _What the hell was she talking about?_ ’ I muttered underneath my breath as I lay down on my couch, trying to decipher Delphine’s vague entry about Lyra by reading her succeeding notes. Apart from talking about Lyra and Gabi finally moving in together around 1986, having a child in 1994, finally being able to marry in late 2003, and a lot of cute stories about Lory, nothing explained this entry, which made me even more curious about Lyra and her family.

While her initial declaration during our first lunch together about having a wife and son intrigued me, I made sure that I didn’t pry about her personal life these past few days, choosing instead to focus on talking about Delphine and answering Lyra’s questions about her mother and our relationship. Even if I feel closer and more at ease with her now, I know that our friendship is still at that fragile state where even the smallest of things can tip the scales from _friend_ to _somebody-I-don’t-ever-want-to-see-or-hear-from-again_. But with Lyra and her family coming over in just a few hours, I wouldn’t know if I will be able to contain my curiosity any longer.

To be honest though, I’m not really worried about being nosy. I’m more worried about how I can conceal the envy I first felt when she mentioned the existence of a wife and a son. I remember reeking of jealousy as I looked at Lyra’s phone and I saw a photo of her family with a smiling Delphine in a white pantsuit as they stood behind their Christmas tree. _‘I wish I could have been there beside her’_ was the thought running through my head as I silently examined it that day. In a way, it is the same kind of irrational jealousy I felt this morning when Felix started talking about Colin and their apartment misunderstandings in Savannah.

I close the journals and shut my eyes to try to get some sleep. Reading her journals these past few days made me remember my many dreams of her ever since that summer in the highlands. One particular dream stands out though. In that dream, it’s a sunny day and we are driving along an unfamiliar road with no other cars in sight or a clear destination in mind. I am behind the wheel, the windows are down, and Delphine’s hair blows wildly which makes my heart flutter with love, affection, and desire. We are wearing our usual work clothes when we were in the cabin herding sheep. My right hand on the gearbox is tightly entwined with her left hand as she looks out the window at the seemingly never-ending road we are travelling on.

She says my name, “ _Co-si-ma_ ”, and I look at her. She wears a smile but also has tears in her eyes as she tells me “ _Je t’aime._ ” I say I love you back and I give her a tentative smile. Then something distracts me and I shift my gaze away from her. The distraction differs from time to time: sometimes, it’s a deer that crosses the road; sometimes, it’s a car coming out of nowhere, honking and startling me; and sometimes, it’s just a loud thud on the truck’s bed. But every time I recover from the distraction, I look at the seat beside me and she would always be gone. Left alone in the car, the skies will suddenly turn dark and a dash of white light from the rear-view mirror will blur my vision.

This dream recurs. The first time I dreamt it was in New York and apart from vividly remembering the details of the dream, I remember the feeling of waking up shaken to the core and vibrating in despair. Emi, my girlfriend at that time, asked me what’s wrong and attempted to comfort me by rubbing my back and pulling me in for a hug. I never told her anything nor did I let her touch me. Instead, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and then retreated to the couch and tried to pick up my sleep from there. Since then, the dream showed itself from time to time regardless of where I was, or if I’m alone or if there’s someone beside me; and every time I see it in my sleep, I wake up sad, confused, and in sweats - a cold reminder from my subconscious that the love I have for Delphine still lingers, albeit disregarded and well-hidden.

It wasn’t until Shay when I voiced out my curiosity about it. Waking up from the same dream one night, I asked her what it meant - reading dreams being one of her interests as a hobbyist healer. Of course, as I recount it for her, I made no mention of Delphine – I told her that it was my sister who was with me in the car. She told me that my dream signifies my life’s journey and path, and that the person I was with is the one I want next to me as I navigate my way through life. Shay believed that the unfamiliar road and the lack of destination relates to a lack of direction and future about the life me and the passenger can have together. The in-dream distraction, Shay continued, could be something in my life that I am overlooking, not paying attention to, or running away from. Ironically, she said, the light from the rear-view mirror suggests that I’m dwelling on something painful from the past, and though I should never forget, I should let it go so that dreams like this will stop.

I never did let go because I was dreaming it just now until knocks on my door woke me up from my nap. I wipe beads of cold sweat from my forehead with my arm as I open the door slightly. Felix was there with a toothy grin, waiting for me to open up. 

“ _They’re here, Auntie Cos._ ”


	12. August 30, 2016

“ _I see it,_ ” Gabi said as she pointed to the Paradise Ranch sign at Mile 400. I slow down and saw from the rear-view mirror that Lory is scooting over from the back of my seat to the side of his Mom’s to also get a good look at the sign.

“ _It really meant something to them, didn’t it?_ ”Lory whispered.

“ _Yes, it did,_ ” I replied, to which Gabi asked, “ _Are you nervous about meeting her, Lory?_ ”

Lory looked at her and let out a deep breath. “ _Not really, Mom,_ ” he said. “ _Not nervous, more excited and curious. I have this idea of her in my head from Mémé’s stories...Expectations you know?_ ”

I gave him a quick knowing look before attending to the remaining drive to the ranch. “ _I think she’s everything you expect and more, mon chouchou,_ ” I said as I turn towards Cosima’s farm house. “ _We’re here,_ ” I said as I enter Paradise Ranch and eventually put the car on park and we alight.

At the sight of our car, a slightly portly man in his 60s, newly clean-shaven with light brown hair and emerald eyes, stopped whatever he was doing with Cosima’s truck and wipes his hands on a clean cloth. “ _Miss Lyra?_ ” he asked. I give him a nod and a polite smile. “ _How do you do? I’m George, Kira’s husband,”_ he said as he extends his hand. “ _This must be your family?_ ”

As I shook his hand, he holds my hand with his other hand conveying his thrill at meeting me. “ _Hello George! It’s nice to meet you. Yes this is my family,_ ” I say as I gesture towards my wife and son. “ _This is Gabi,_ ” I said as George reaches out to shake Gabi’s outstretched hands. “ _And this here is our son, Lory,_ ” he then shifts his attention to Lory and regards him with a beaming smile. “ _Come in, come in,_ ” he said as we follow him inside the house.

“ _Kira! They’re here!_ ” George bellowed as soon as we enter the house. I hear footsteps emerging from the kitchen as I see Kira wearing her usual red apron while she is followed by a young man slightly older than Lory, lean, with jet black hair, big black eyes, impeccable eyeliner, and wearing the same dark gray apron I wore a couple of nights ago when I helped out with dinner. “ _Hey Lyra,_ ” Kira said as she comes in for a hug and I introduce her to Gabi and Lory. “ _I see you’ve met Georgey. This here is my son, Felix._ ”

Felix looks at me carefully before extending his hand for me to shake. “ _Hello,_ ” he cautiously said. “ _It’s very nice to meet you, finally._ ”

“ _Likewise,_ ” I said with a curt smile. “ _Is Cosima..._ ”

“ _Dodging dinner duties and smoking a joint?_ ” Felix interrupted with a raised eyebrow. “ _Yes and probably,_ ” he said answering his own question with a mischievous and warm smile as if he is involving me in his joke. “ _Let me go get her,_ ” as he walks towards Cosima’s studio while removing his apron and handing it to his mother. As George leaves us to go back outside and resume his chores, Kira hands me the same apron and said, “ _Would you mind helping me out in the kitchen, Lyra?”_ I nod and wear the discarded gray apron. _“I totally mistimed everything and there is still so much to be done,”_ she said with an exasperated voice. _“You can help too, Gabi,_ ” Kira suggested.

Before Gabi can even politely accept or decline, Lory takes the opportunity to poke fun at his mom’s lack of culinary skills. “ _Please, don’t let Mom do anything that involves a pot and a stove,”_ Lory said with a snicker that earned him a playful smack on the head from Gabi. “ _I’ll help. You can put me in trash duty,_ ” he continued while dramatically rubbing his head as he feigns pain. He looks at his Mom and naughtily said, “ _What? It was an open shot, Mom, I had to take it._ ”  

“ _Touché, my little fiend, touché,”_ Gabi said. Kira accepted Lory’s offer to help out in the kitchen and seems amused by my son’s half-meant ribbing - probably remembering similar exchanges between her and her sons, and. “ _No trash duty for you though,”_ Kira said, _“Georgey’s got that covered...You’ll be in charge of the salad, Lory,_ ” as Kira leads me and Lory to the kitchen. 

 “ _May I use your bathroom?_ ” Gabi asked and Kira nods as she gives her the same directions she gave me during my first visit at the house.

 

\-----

“ _Just a minute, Fee,_ ” I said as I close the door he left ajar. I hear his footsteps getting farther away from the room while I smooth out the wrinkles on my clothes with my hands. I check my make-up, pick my glasses from the couch, and run my fingers through my short hair before taking one last look in the mirror. Satisfied with my appearance, I take a deep breath, put on my glasses, and let myself out.

In the hallway, I immediately see the profile of a woman who is eyeing my drawings and sketches. The woman is about my height, with shoulder-length wavy brown hair, and milk-chocolate eyes framed in thick dark brown eyeglasses. Her clothes, a knee-length dress with maroon hues and stylish black platform boots, suit her olive skin. From where I’m standing, I can see that she has several piercings in her right earlobe and that she wears several rings on her fingers in her right hand. From her profile alone, she seems to be someone I can easily be friends with regardless of when or where I meet her.

Sensing my presence, the woman turns towards me. Face-to-face, I can categorically say that the photo I saw of her when Lyra first came here doesn’t do her justice - because although the picture clearly showed an attractive woman, up close I can see that every bit of her features screams interesting. While Lyra is gifted with a classic prim and proper beauty, the woman before me is beautiful because of all her quirks: an infectious toothy smile; piercings and the contrast of a ring-adorned right hand and her almost-bare left hand that only sports a simple silver wedding band; and eyes that are both inquisitive and friendly.

The woman spoke. “ _Hi Cosima. I’m Gabi Smith, Lyra’s wife. It’s so good to finally put a face on the woman Delphine always talked about._ ” I couldn’t help but smile at her honest introduction as I extend my hand to shake hers. To my surprise though, she reached out to give me a warm hug instead of a polite handshake.

“ _How was your trip? Not too tired I hope,_ ” I said as we release each other though as I look at her, I can see that her glasses have fogged up a bit. “ _The trip was okay,_ ” she said as her voice breaks - her emotions over meeting me leaving me quite perplexed. As we stood in the hallway just looking at each other for what seems like hours, George enters with a well-dressed Colin inside our house, shouting at Felix to come out of the kitchen to meet his boyfriend. Felix casually strolls in, gives Colin a peck on his cheek, and escorts him to the kitchen “ _where his carving skills can be of use_ ”.

The scene that played out broke our silence. “ _These drawings are even better than the ones Lyra and I saw in San Francisco,_ ” Gabi said as she points to the dandelion drawing I made in the 60s.

“ _Thank you, Gabi,”_ I politely replied. _“This one here is an oldie. When did you see my newer works in the Bay?_ ” I inquired with a hint of surprise that they know about some of my stuff in San Francisco.

“ _Those were hella good too,_ ” she said. “ _Lyra and I saw it earlier this month. That’s how we found out where you are. We asked the gallery about you and your agent, I think, said you’re based here. From that and from Delphine’s journals, it was easy for Lyra to track you down,_ ” she explained.

What could have been my reply was interrupted by a deep and unfamiliar voice calling out from the dining room. “ _Mom,_ ” the voice said, “ _Maman is asking if you can help set the table..._ ” the sounds get nearer until the boy who possesses that voice was standing at the edge of the short hallway carrying an armful of plates.

Not even seeing a picture of this boy a few days ago prepared me for the sight that awaits me as I shift my gaze from Gabi to him. While the family picture clearly shows his resemblance to his grandmother, in the flesh Lyra and Gabi’s son is the spitting image of Delphine. Seeing him in person now, I can see the same shade of blonde hair, similar curls (though his is shorter and shaggier), the same nose, the same slightly thin lips, and the same eye color and shape. The only tell-tale differences are the boy’s height (he seems a bit taller than Delphine), a more defined jaw, and a five-o’clock shadow.

The boy walks towards us as his Mom takes on the plates he’s holding to place them on our dining table. He looks at me with Delphine’s kind eyes - eyes that I could tell wouldn’t hurt anybody, at least not on purpose. “ _Lory?_ ” I asked while my hands wipe errant tears that have unknowingly seeped out of my eyes. His presence overwhelms me and I couldn’t help but envelop him in an embrace. “ _It’s so good to see you,_ ” I said as I rest my head on his chest.  “ _I am very happy to see you, Cosima,_ ” he replied as he held me.

I let him go to get a glimpse of his face again. Behind him, I see his Maman looking at us, with a reserved smile on her face. “ _Dinner’s ready,_ ” Lyra declared as she approaches us. “ _Hi, Cosima,_ ” she said as I receive her hug.

 

\-----

As it turns out, too many chefs did not spoil the broth this evening, because every little contribution from both hosts and guests went a long way to ensure that everybody gets to eat a hearty and delicious dinner. When I got to the kitchen, Kira was already so preoccupied with the meat that she forgot all about the fry bread mixture that needed kneading. Luckily for Kira, fry bread is something that I’m familiar with since Maman often cooked it at home, and with my full attention on preparing our dinner, I manage to fry all the kneaded balls of dough to perfection. Felix’s cinnamon honey butter was surprisingly good and refreshing – great for giving our palates a break from the main course of juicy and flavorful herbed bison.

On the other side of the kitchen, Lory has proven to me that his cooking skills go beyond pouring hot water on dehydrated noodles as he prepared and tossed the salad - although he didn’t really do much of the heavy lifting as the sweet potatoes have already been chopped and baked along with some onions before we arrived. Still, it was one thing off our minds as we prepare the more intricate components of tonight’s dinner. As the roasted meat stands in a pan, Felix saunters in with his boyfriend, Colin, who volunteered to thinly slice the meat across the grain as soon it reaches the right temperature.

By the end of it all, there were eight platefuls of food – each having healthy portions of all the delicious elements planned by Kira - and lots of seconds to go around for everybody. I untie my apron and watch as Gabi sets the table and engages in animated small talks with Felix and Colin. Between the two of us, it has always been Gabi who’s the more sociable and laidback one - and dinner parties like this brings out her fun, charming, and gregarious side. Her inclination to mix and mingle always puts me at ease mainly because when I’m with her, I don’t have to try too hard in coming up with things to talk about with other people.

As Gabi and Felix discuss the most interesting and scenic routes to Savannah from Buffalo, I decided to look for Lory inside the house. It wasn’t long before I found him in the hallway, giving Cosima a seemingly emotional hug. I have a feeling that Cosima is deeply overwhelmed not only by the presence of her ex-lover’s family, but also by the uncanny resemblance of my son to his Mémé. I call them to dinner first before walking over to where they are to wrap Cosima in a friendly embrace.

The dinner table tonight is very different from when it was just the three of us. Obviously, seating is a bit tighter with Cosima and George taking the end seats, and Kira taking her usual seat with Felix and Colin beside her. Like before, I’m seated across Kira, with Gabi and Lory next to me. There are also a lot of mini-conversations happening all at the same time: Gabi and Felix pick up their talk about his Savannah road trip, with my wife convincing him to stop at Chattanooga after Nashville so they can visit this really awesome restaurant that serves the best craft beer she’s ever gulped. George and Colin are wrapped up in their own talk about getting his car checked out before the trip and packing emergency supplies just in case. Kira is asking Lory about his plans after college and my son shares how he’s on the fence about staying in Seattle or moving to Chicago.

While all these conversations happen, Cosima reaches to touch my arm and looks at me with a smile on her lips. “ _You have a lovely family,_ ” she said. “ _Thank you, Cosima,_ ” I answer as I glanced at my wife and son who seem to be at ease at getting to know our other hosts.    

“ _Lory looks so much like her, Lyra_ ” she said. “ _How did that happen?_ ” Not wanting to bore her with the science behind it, I say: “ _that’s genetics at work. 25% of what makes us ‘us’ is from a grandparent, so it’s not surprising to me that Lory looks like Delphine._ ”

“ _I thought I was gonna lose it back there the first time I saw him,_ ” Cosima confided. “ _You and Gabi raised a good person, I can tell,_ ” she continued.

I smile and feel proud when I heard Cosima’s words. It wasn’t easy starting a family as same-sex partners in the 1980s – it still isn’t in many parts of the world. And because we knew the difficult road ahead of us, Gabi and I were initially set on never having children. But I always found her cooing and melting at the sight of her nephews and our friends’ babies, and seeing her reactions made me question our earlier decision. Eventually, after convincing ourselves that we would make excellent parents no matter what happens, we changed our minds around 1992 and went for an expensive IVF treatment, thinking that if that doesn’t work out, we can try to adopt. We got lucky and I got pregnant. By Christmas 1994, Maman was clearly overjoyed at her first holiday as a grandmother. Eventually, the times changed and as soon as civil unions became legal in our neck of the woods, we went down to City Hall and got married – Maman was one of our witnesses.   

“ _Thank you,_ ” I told Cosima. “ _It took a village to raise him – and Maman helped us a lot. She and Lory... they were very close,_ ” I shared. Our conversation was interrupted by Gabi who stood up and raised her glass of wine.

“ _I just want to make a toast,_ ” she said, “ _to Cosima, for welcoming us into her lovely home. I know it wasn’t easy for you to deal with us and the baggage we bring along, but here we are at Paradise Ranch, breaking bread with you and your lovely family. I can only hope that we get to return the favor soon._

_“To Cosima,”_ I stand to join Gabi as I tip my glass to our host, “ _for letting us in and accepting us._ ”

“ _To Cosima,_ ” cheered everybody as she beams and blushes at my wife’s gesture.  

         

\-----

The last time this table was this full was two years ago when Sarah and Cal popped by during Christmas, and when Cal Jr. - Kira’s older son, stayed in the ranch before re-upping for another tour of duty. I remembered it as a fun night, with Sarah getting a bit drunk on a bottle of bourbon that Felix sneaked in – much to Kira’s consternation. Tonight, as Lyra, Gabi, and dear Lory share a meal with us, I couldn’t help but feel thankful for the simple things in life: family, friendship, free-flowing conversations, and a really good home-cooked meal.

With the first servings gone and the seconds mostly decimated, it didn’t come as a surprise to me anymore when nobody signed up for s’mores after dinner. While I was looking forward to it, I figured I can just have them up in the cabin tomorrow. Much to Kira and Lyra’s relief, Gabi and George volunteered to take charge of the clean-up, while Felix and Colin offered to make coffee or tea for everybody.  

I wait for Lyra and Lory to come back in after getting their bags from the car. I can tell that both of them are tired – Lyra from helping out with dinner and driving in and out of Wyoming; and Lory from all the travelling he did today on only a few hours of sleep. Once they got back inside, I show them to their rooms: Lyra and Gabi get Kira and George’s room in the farm house, while Lory gets Felix’s room. “ _But where would Kira and her family sleep?_ ” Lyra asked.

“ _They don’t actually live here,_ ” I said. “ _They have their own house just a few blocks from the gate – Kira just drops by daily and stays here with me when George and Felix are up in the ranges._ ” I leave them to their rooms as I make my way to the living room for our nightcap.  When I got there, Kira was already sitting in the recliner, taking a load off and rubbing the back of her neck. I take a seat on our plush gray sofa.

“ _Thank you, Kira,_ ” I said. “ _For tonight, for helping me welcome Lyra and her family._ ”

Kira smiles and stands up to sit next to me. “ _You’re welcome, Auntie Cosima. I know how much this means to you. It’s the least I can do,_ ” Kira replied as she leans back and puts her tired feet up on the coffee table. I give my niece an affectionate kiss on her cheek.

“ _Feet off, Mom,_ ” Felix said as he and Colin bring in the drinks. Kira scoffs at her son, who then said, “ _well, you’re the one who made the rules, I’m just enforcing them, so feet off the table or you’ll sully it,_ ” he cheekily said. Pretty soon, everyone joins us in the room to partake on the hot beverages, and though the conversations have simmered down, the warmth of the company is still very much there.

“ _So what’s the plan tomorrow?_ ” Felix asked. “ _Daddy dearest here was just telling me that the truck is good to go for the trek._ ” The last time I was up in the cabin was way back in 2002 when we had to get a contractor to rehabilitate it and install indoor plumbing. And while we usually ride on horses whenever we go up there, tomorrow we’re taking the truck since there are no sheep to be herded and it would be faster and more convenient for everybody - especially me.

“ _We leave early,_ ” I said. “ _Is 6 a.m. too early for you guys?_ ” I asked Lyra and Gabi.

“ _Non, 6 a.m. is fine, Cosima,_ ” Lyra answered. “ _I’ll be sure to wake up these sleepyheads so we’re on time._ ”

“ _Great, that’s settled,_ ” Felix said. “ _I’ll just bring the truck home tonight and be here tomorrow morning._ ” Felix offered to drive and drop us off the cabin, while it would be George who would come pick us up after.  “ _It’s getting a bit late,_ ” he said, “ _and I need my beauty rest,_ ” as he stands up to kiss me good night and to shake Lyra, Gabi, and Lory’s hands. Kira and George got up from their seats to do the same as they grab their things to join Felix in going home. Colin was already at the door, thanking Kira and me for dinner before giving a friendly wave to Lyra and her family.

“ _Well,_ ” I said when everybody had left, “ _I think that’s it for tonight. Get some rest you guys,_ ” I get up and pat Lyra on her shoulder, while she and her family bid me good night as we head to our rooms.

I lay on my bed as soon as I entered the room. Though I didn’t do much aside from making the beds and going grocery shopping, the whole day was quite tiring for me emotionally. During the dinner, I took in the easy interaction and obviously-close relationship that Lyra and her family share with each other. At the same time, I see the love and affection that Lyra and Gabi have for one another – the way their eyes light up when they look at each other; sharing little bites and serving each other food; the way their fingers touch and lingered on each other; and even the way they finish each other’s stories. And while I was worried that my envy towards the life they have will rear its ugly head during dinner, the sight of Delphine’s carbon-copy grandson provided a more than adequate distraction to keep the green-eyed monster in me at bay for now.

Thinking that only a few minutes have passed, I open my eyes to change into my pajamas and get ready for bed. It wasn’t until I saw the clock on my bedside saying that it’s now 2:27 a.m. when I realized that I have dozed off for hours. Feeling parched, I went out of my room to get a glass of water before trying to catch a few more hours of sleep.

In the middle of the short hallway, I can see a faint light that must be coming from the kitchen. When I got there, I see a hunched figure sitting at the breakfast table. I touched her shoulder to let her know I’m there and it almost made her jump from her seat in shock.

“ _Holy shit!!!_ ” Gabi cried out while removing her earphones. “ _Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in,_ ” she explained while pointing to her earphones that are now looped around her phone near her book.    

“ _Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,_ ” I said apologetically. “ _Couldn’t sleep?_ ” I asked her as I make my way to the cupboard to get a glass.

“ _I’m actually up early,_ ” Gabi said. “ _I slept a lot on the way here and I just woke up about...15 minutes ago? I didn’t want to wake Lyra so I went out here to read. I hope that’s okay._ ”

 “ _Of course it’s okay,_ ” I said, as I take the seat across her. I study her face as I sip my water and realize that unlike Lyra and Lory’s faces after dinner, Gabi looks well-rested and pretty ready for our trip later this morning. She then sets her book aside and decided to get some water as well.

She was filling her glass when she spoke again. “ _You know Cosima, the first time Delphine mentioned you to me, I knew I had to meet you,_ ” she said. Intrigued, I turn to face her, “ _Really? What did she say?_ ” Gabi looks at me and tries to keep a straight face as she re-takes her seat.

“ _She told me that you’re the best sex she’s ever had in her life,_ ” she gabbed while obviously trying to stifle a snicker.

I can feel the blush forming on my entire face at what she said. “ _Whenever Lyra has a meeting or a late class, I take her place in visiting Delphine at the home,”_ Gabi explained _. “That afternoon, we were playing scrabble and I tiled the word LAY, and that’s what she had to say about that: ‘Cosima is the best lay I’ve ever had in my life’ - in verbatim.”_

I feel flushed but amused - a bit overwhelmed by both the embarrassment and hilarity of Gabi’s Delphine story. Seeing my reaction, she lets out a chuckle and shakes a finger at me, “ _oh_ _no, no, Cosima, that’s not all,_ ” she said. “ _She described stuff too, but in French. Now, I’m an American so my French isn’t very good – I can understand a bit and I can speak common greetings, curses, and toasts. So all I gathered from her description is my god, strong fingers, very talented tongue, wet, when I’m alone sometimes, and...You know...That other word for cat,_ ” she enumerated with her fingers and grinned.

I’m speechless, but Gabi isn’t. “ _Anyway, I was floored. I mean, come on - this is my elegant mother-in-law talking in great detail about having mind-blowing, life-altering sex. It was so incongruent with the woman I knew all my life: good-mannered Delphine with a subtle grace and effortless beauty. So when I told Lyra, I said ‘We have to track this Cosima woman down babe, so she can teach us her ways’._ ”

I can’t help but laugh at her joke as I continue to blush. “ _You can’t make this shit up,”_ she said with a laugh. “ _But seriously though,_ ” her voice suddenly taking on a more formal tone, “ _I wanted to meet you because I want to thank you for everything._ ” My embarrassment and amusement at her story was replaced with a hint of confusion. “ _Thank me for what exactly?_ ” I asked. “ _Did I inadvertently give you some sex tips?_ ” I joked back.

She almost spat out the gulp of water she was drinking. “ _No, it’s not that,”_ she said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “ _I have you to thank for Delphine getting Lyra to consider taking a chance on us,_ ” she said. I tilt my head as she spoke and remembered Delphine’s words that I read this afternoon. Now is my chance to know more about it: “ _What’s the story there, if you don’t mind me asking?_ ”

The air in the kitchen seems to have gotten heavier as Gabi lets out a sigh while she fidgets in her seat and plays with one of the rings in her finger. In spite of her body language, she seems to regard me as a kindred spirit as she begins telling her story. “ _I think I always knew that I love Lyra you know, even when we were teenagers. The first time we kissed was the night before she and Delphine moved to Canada._ ”

“ _And did she feel the same way about you then?_ ” I questioned.

Gabi considers her answer to my question. “ _Looking back, I’d like to think so. But it was a different time and we were young. When my family moved to Canada to join the ranch business, I thought we could just pick up where we left off..._ ”

“ _And did you?_ ”I pressed on as Gabi refills her water and offers to top up my now-empty glass as well. While she does this, I reach for a nearby shelf where I know boxes of cookies are stored. I open it and offer Gabi a piece which she takes as she sets my glass in front of me.

“ _In a way we did - secret make-out sesh and all that. But I was hopeful that we’re going to take it to the next level because we also had a plan together. We were both interested in the Sciences so we were dead-set on going to UBC for college, and getting an apartment together. It all changed on prom night...When I had a slip of the tongue and told her I love her._ ”

“ _I take it that she didn’t take that confession well,_ ” I quipped.

“ _No she didn’t,_ ” Gabi shook her head. “ _As I said, we were kids. She said that she’s confused and afraid, and we can’t happen. She didn’t speak to me until graduation, really avoided being alone with me. So I did what any heartbroken teenager found sensible – I planned my great escape and revenge. I decided to go to Berkeley instead of UBC._ ”

“ _Your coping mechanism sounds familiar,_ ” I empathized.

She nods. “ _When we spoke again shortly after graduation, I ask her what she wanted. It was a last-ditch effort to get her to say that she wants me too. Instead, she said that she’d like it if we can go back to the way we were – best friends. So I said okay. I only want to give her what she wants._ ”

What I said to Delphine that day in 1957 before we travelled back to the lowlands reverberated in my head as I listen to Gabi’s story – ‘ _Tell me what you want, Delphine. You can take it, it’s yours._ ’ And I meant every word of it. Delphine could have asked for the moon and the stars and I would have built a ladder long enough to try to reach them right then and there.

“ _What happened next?_ ” I asked as I try to refocus on the story unravelling in front of me.

“ _Things went back to normal, whatever normal was. The first time I went home from college, Lyra brought her new boyfriend with her. So I said to myself, ‘well okay, two can play at that game’. Come Christmas, I brought home a boyfriend myself. And that’s how things went for some time...until Ferdinand._ ”

“ _Ferdinand?_ ” I said. “ _Who’s Ferdinand, Gabi?_ ”

Gabi takes another cookie and examines it as she answers. “ _Ferdinand was my fiancé,_ ” she said to my slight surprise. “ _School was great and I was having the goddamn time of my life, but I can’t shake off the feeling that I am also very lost. Do you get that? So after college, I took a year off and went backpacking all over the States. I met Ferdinand in Boston. He was taking a break from law school and doing all these travelling and somehow we really hit it off. We got together, and by the end of the trip he asked me to marry him. I said yes._ ”

She takes a bite of her second cookie as I try to process what she has been confiding to me. “ _And how did Lyra find out?_ ”

Gabi finishes her cookie with a bigger bite, chewed the sweet treat, and dusted her hands before continuing. “ _I went home before starting my master’s in Berkeley to introduce Ferdinand to my family. Of course, Delphine and Lyra were there. Next thing I knew, Lyra was begging off on our trip to San Francisco with our moms._ ”

Her hands, now cookie-less, went back to playing with the rings on her fingers as she spoke. “ _A few months after Mom and Delphine’s visit to San Fran, Lyra came to my apartment unexpectedly. She was crying and telling me how she was so stupid for running away from me. That she can’t deny me and what she feels for me any longer. She told me, for the first time, that she loves me and she asked me if she was too late- if I can’t love her again._ ”

“ _Let me guess what happens next..._ ” I said, “ _You got together that night._ ”

“ _No,_ ” she said as she shook her head. “ _She’s still in here,”_ Gabi points to her heart, _“that never really went away if I’m being honest. But I said yes to Ferdinand for a reason. It was my turn to be confused – I waited so long for us to happen, so that night I couldn’t help but kiss Lyra after years of trying to be just best friends. But I also asked her if she can give me some time to think about it._ ”

“ _And then what?_ ” I said as I wipe my glasses with my shirt.

“ _A couple of months later, I called Ferdinand and told him not to move to Berkeley. I broke off our engagement. And then I got on my jalopy and drove all the way to UBC. I remember waiting all day for her to come home. We’ve been together ever since._ ”

“ _I don’t get it, Gabi,_ ” I said. “ _How did Delphine get involved in this story?_ ”  

Gabi bites her lip as she tries to choose her next words carefully. “ _I didn’t either until six months ago – she talked about other things apart from you, you know. When I first asked Lyra what made her change her mind, she said that Delphine figured it out and that she said something to her that made her take the leap. She never told me what they talked about._ ”

“ _So Delphine told you?_ ” I said.

“ _Yeah, she did. I was with her one afternoon and she thought it was 1984 all over again. She was afraid that history would repeat itself. She told me she spoke with her daughter and that Lyra was scared of everything that comes with being with me. So I asked her what she said._ ”

I look at her as I try to prepare and listen to what she has to say. “ _Delphine said that she told Lyra that she should stop loving me from afar because she would carry the regret forever. That Lyra should tell me that it might have taken her a longer time to figure out if she wants to share a life and a future with me, but that she’s here now and that she can take whatever my decision would be. That sometimes the answer is so simple and that we are the only ones that are making things complicated by denying what we feel; If you really love Gabi, she told Lyra, tell her now while you still have a chance, it’s that simple. You can deal with the complications later.”_

She pauses and looks away from me to try to hide her tears. _“If being with Gabi will make you happy,”_ she continued even if her voice is breaking, _“then it will make me happy too. Your happiness is my own, Lyra – go and tell her now before it’s really too late._ ”

The next thing I knew, Gabi was standing from where she sat and was walking towards me to comfort me. When I started tearing up, I don’t know anymore, but here I am – past 3 a.m. and letting my emotions out as the wife of my lover’s daughter tries to soothe me. When I stopped, Gabi seats beside me and takes my hand into hers.

“ _You don’t need to be a genius to figure out who she’s reserving those words for, Cosima. And for whatever it’s worth, she saved those words for you until the day she died - even an illness as vicious as Alzheimer’s couldn’t erase what she felt for you. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I owe the life, the love, and the family that I have to you._ ”

And just like that, for the nth time this day, I’m left speechless and overwhelmed by a smorgasbord of inexplicable emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking this opportunity again to thank those who are reading this, leaving comments, and kudos. There are only two chapters and an epilogue to go, so I hope your not yet bored with this story.


	13. Last Entry / July 1, 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that goes back and forth between Cosima and Lyra’s perspective

My day started with the unmistakable smell of freshly-brewed coffee. Barely half awake, I reach out to the other side of the bed expecting to wake up my wife, only to immediately get up and rub the sleep off my eyes when my touch didn’t yield anything. To my surprise, I see Gabi in the room – not only awake but almost-packed and ready to go.

She’s walking towards my side of the bed with two cups of coffee – one black and one very milky. “ _Good morning, sleepyhead,_ ” she drawled while she sits next to me.

“ _Hey,_ ” I said before kissing her good morning. “ _What time is it?_ ” Gabi puts the mugs on the table to wrap her arms around me and give me a kiss on my cheek. “ _It’s a quarter after 5, babe. Drink up, Felix is already here,_ ” she said as she hands me my cup.  After one small sip, I can tell that the coffee was made exactly to my liking – piping hot, strong, and with just the slightest hint of brown sugar - which made me wonder out loud how long Gabi has been awake given her tendency to be a slowpoke in the morning.

 “ _A while, Ly,”_ she said. _“Cosima and I got to hang out actually. I read and she sketched a little, and we had a couple of laughs too...and a few tears._ ”

“ _Please tell me you didn’t tell her the scrabble story,_ ” I asked, though I really didn’t need to because I think I already know her answer.

“ _I did,_ ” she answered and giggled. “ _I feel a little bad for embarrassing an old lady, but after that we got to a nice chat about San Fran – the parks, the clubs, cafes, and restaurants that we liked. Would you believe that she lived just 20 minutes away from the old apartment in Berkeley – the one where Mom and Delphine stayed at during their first visit?_ ” I shook my head and gave my wife a curt smile while I try to quickly regain my wits and strength after a good night’s sleep.

Though I still don’t know Cosima that well, I’ve had a feeling since we met that she and Gabi would hit it off easily given the many things they can talk about – living in San Francisco being just one of them. On the one hand, I’ve always known that Maman had a soft spot for Gabi and it wasn’t surprising to me that she was at ease with her even when her Alzheimer’s got really bad. During those times, Gabi was so supportive – often stepping up for home and hospital visits when my work got in the way. I am pretty sure that Maman told Gabi a lot about Cosima, and I am happy that my wife gets to tell these passed-down stories to her now because she deserves to know more about Maman from the people she loved and considered family.   

My attention went elsewhere when Gabi stood up to do a quick, last-minute check on our bags before picking up Maman’s urn and asking me: “ _Does Cosima know about Delphine’s urn, Ly?_ ” Having overslept, it was a good thing that I’ve already packed the things I’m going to bring to the cabin before heading to bed last night.

“ _No, she hasn’t seen it yet,_ ” I answered, “ _how do you think she’s going to take it?_ ” I ask Gabi who puts the urn down carefully before zipping her bag and carrying them by the door. “ _I don’t know, Ly. We’ll just have to take it one step at a time, I guess. And we’ll try to be there for her. That’s all we can really do._ ”

I shrug and got my clothes for this morning from the chair where I placed them on last night. After downing our coffees, Gabi and I head out to find Lory in the living room, already dressed for the trip and showing something on his phone to Felix – their mugs and a box of cookies neglected on the coffee table for now. Gabi went on to join them while I mumble a ‘ _good morning_ ’ before slipping in the bathroom to get ready for today’s trip.

I brush my teeth and wash my face before applying light makeup and getting dressed in a simple cream sweater, black jeans, and sneakers. I fix my hair and re-wear my watch before taking a long, hard look in the mirror, mentally asking myself if I’m ready to really let go of Maman now.

“ _Presque là, Maman._ _Presque là,_ ” I whispered before heading out to get my bags and Maman’s urn in the room.

 

\-----

 

“ _What’s going on here, guys?_ ” I asked with a curious smile as I follow the sounds of oohs and awws coming from the living room while I held on to my second cup of tea for today.

“ _Come look, Auntie Cos,_ ” Felix said. “ _Lory was just showing me photos of Delphine and him – look at this one,_ ” Felix said, playfully yanking Lory’s phone away from his hand. It was a picture of Lory as a young boy – he was probably five or six years old - during Halloween, dressed up as a cowboy riding a horse that’s actually part of his outfit, with Delphine wearing a red plaid shirt, jeans, boots, and a Stetson. I couldn’t help but gush at the image of a happy Delphine with her grandson.

“ _Delphine usually took Lory trick-or-treating when he was a kid because Lyra and I were both busy at work,_ ” Gabi explained as she looked on as well. “ _That was my Toy Story phase,_ ” Lory chimed in, “ _Mémé and Grandma Krystal made that costume. That was a fun night, lots of pinches on my cheeks, and tons of sweets too._ ” There were other cute photos of Delphine and Lory that I saw: a picture of them in the zoo where Lory was sitting on Delphine’s shoulders while trying to feed a giraffe; a picture of Lory this time riding a real horse with Delphine standing by his side; and a picture of them taken during Lory’s high school graduation – Delphine beams with pride at her grandson’s accomplishment.

Gabi then takes out her phone and shows me a more dated photo of Delphine where she was sitting on a tree stump near what seems to be their ranch. Her hair was up in a simple, messy bun, and she was wearing work clothes similar to those we wore when we were in the cabin. Her posture was relaxed and casual, with her hands clasped together and her legs a bit apart. She was looking straight into the camera and has the most serene smile on her face.

“ _Well now I get it,_ ” Felix muttered while casting a knowing look my way.         

“ _She’s so beautiful,_ ” I ended up saying my inner thought out loud as I unabashedly gaze at Gabi’s phone. “ _When was this taken?_ ”

“ _Around 1976 in the ranch,_ ” Gabi said. “ _That’s the same tree stump where she used to teach Lyra and I how to rope cattle. It’s still there actually._ ”

“ _I taught her how to do that on a stump in the highlands,_ ” I said my voice dwindling to almost a whisper, remembering how I teased Delphine then about not being a real cowgirl because she’s never even tied a knot or thrown a rope. Remembering the way she looked at me and at my lips, and though I tried to be coy that time, deep down it really took all the self-control I have to not run my fingers through her hair; and to not kiss her with every ounce of passion I have.

“ _Maybe we can go there later, take a walk and snap some photos?_ ” Lory said.

“ _I say yes to the photos, Lory...as for the walking, that depends on how my knees will hold up after the drive,_ ” I said with a wink and a quick smile.

As we finish our drinks, Lyra emerges from the hall – her weekender bag where a coat is slung is casually hanging on one shoulder. For a moment, I found it odd that she seems to be cradling a vase in her arms, until it dawned on me that that’s not what I thought it was.

And suddenly, the world stops spinning.

I approach Lyra cautiously. She has a sad and worried look on her face as she puts down her bag on the floor. I look at the black urn she’s almost hugging and I see a faint silver pattern engraved on it.

It’s Orion - our Orion.   

This is not the reunion with Delphine that I have in mind. This is not the reunion that I have dreamt of for many, many years. This can’t be it. This can’t be how it ends.

This can’t be how we end.

 

\-----

 

We stand face to face at the edge of the hallway for what seems like an eternity, with Cosima mumbling something I couldn’t understand. Seeing what’s happening, Felix quickly gets up from the couch and puts an arm around her, urging her to breathe or to take a seat. Cosima does neither as she reaches for my arm – a silent request to hold what remains of Delphine.

I turn to Gabi who has a sympathetic look on her face. “ _Cosima,_ ” I said while carefully handing her Maman’s urn, “ _I am very sorry for your loss._ ” I really don’t know what else to say to her as she clutches on Maman’s urn, running her fingers on the perfectly-etched pattern while her tears fall from her eyes.

“ _Oh Delphine,_ ” she whimpered as she goes down on her knees while capturing the urn in a tight and hunched embrace. “ _I’m so sorry, I..._ ” her words were cut off by her own wails as a stream of her tears hit the lid while Felix and I look at each other unsure of what to do next.

Suddenly, Lory walks towards Cosima and kneels to wrap his arms around the heartbroken woman. “ _Cosima,_ ” he said, as he presses a soft kiss on the side of her head. “ _It’s okay, we’re here,_ ” Felix said joining the two of them on the floor as he rubs Cosima’s back while she continues to cry.

I find myself standing before them with my palm over my mouth as I try to suppress the beginning sobs of an ugly and messy cry. Her weeping reminded me of how Maman cried when she was already very sick - when she has already forgotten how to put on a brave front about the misfortunes that befell her and Cosima’s love. She cried like this, hunched and broken, whenever she remembered their nights together; or whenever she thought its 1957 and their summer has ended the minute they stepped foot on the lowlands; or whenever random and mundane memories of Cosima captured her mind. When she passed away, I thought there would be nobody more heartbroken than me, but looking at Cosima now, I realized that her heartbreak is more relentless and brutal than mine. At least I had an entire life with my mother by my side. She only had a few months and a few fleeting memories of the woman she loved and loved her back.

For all I know, hours had gone by before Cosima was helped back to her feet by Lory and Felix. Still holding on to Maman with one hand, she wipes her eyes with the hem of her shirt, ruining her detailed eye makeup in the process. “ _We should go,_ ” she said a bit forcefully, a bit defiant, as she makes her way to the truck.

We grab our things and load them to the truck while Felix locks up the house. Through the windshield, I see Cosima in the front seat still squeezing the urn close to her chest. We take the backseats and Felix brings the car to life but not before taking a long glance at Cosima – as if asking if she’s ready to take her last trip with Delphine. Gabi holds my hand reassuringly and whispers “ _it’ll be okay, Ly_.” Lory, who seats behind Felix, looks on to Cosima before staring out into the country roads we pass by.

We travel in silence – nobody, not even Felix, dared to say anything. By my estimate, the trip took at least three hours before we caught a glimpse of Cosima’s cabin. She never let go of Maman’s urn during the entire drive – not even when we passed by shallow streams and rough mountain roads where you need to hold on to something if you don’t want your entire body to rock from side to side or from front to back.

The house was a simple log cabin with a small porch and a red door smacked in the middle of two large windows. Compared to Maman’s description of it in her journals, I can see that there were already obvious signs of improvement as an electrical box and a solar panel have already been installed.  Felix and Lory open the truck’s tailgate to bring our things and supplies inside. Cosima follows them and sits at the kitchen table that is right next to a living room with a standalone wood stove fireplace. “ _I’ll help you set-up house here,_ ” Felix said on the porch with Gabi and Lory offering to help.

While Cosima sits in silence, still holding Maman close, my attention was captured by the drawings hanging on the wall facing the living room window. I counted six drawings of Delphine in various poses and scenes in simple black glass frames and arranged to form a square. There is a portrait of her while sitting on a chair, the background indicates that she’s sitting right here in the cabin; there is a sketch of her riding a horse; another drawing of her, this one in profile, as she sits by a fire outside; a drawing of her bare back, her hair up, showing all her beauty marks in their right places as she sits and looks at a starry night; a close-up sketch of her face: an eerily-accurate imagining of what she would have looked like as an older woman; and a drawing of her sitting on a familiar-looking porch, cradling a child – her cheek touching the child’s forehead.

“ _She’s all the love in my heart,_ ” Cosima said as she joins me to look at the drawings. “ _I tried to quit her and there were times when I was able to fool myself into thinking that I’ve erased her completely. But then when I’m alone with a piece of paper and a pencil, it’s still her face I see. After all these years...she’s still the picture in my mind. She’s still here,_ ” as Cosima hold Maman’s urn to her heart, “ _she never really left._ ”

I look at her, my lips trembling from the emotions her drawings are making me feel. “ _I have something for you,_ ” I say to Cosima before I completely lose it. I reach into my purse as I hand her a piece of paper – Delphine’s last journal entry.

This is it, this is how it ends.

 

\-----

_1 July 2015_

_My dearest Lyra,_

_I don’t know if you would ever read this, if you would ever find these journals. I don’t know if you would ever know the truth about me: that I’ve chosen to love Cosima Niehaus – all of her, for as long as I live. But that love is now bearing an expiration date, so when I die, I wish to ask you to let me finally go back to where I found that love._

_I would like to be cremated, ma poulette. I would like you to put my ashes in an urn that has nothing but the Orion constellation like the one in your bedroom – the one without the right shoulder. Let it be like the night sky._

_I wish to be laid to rest in Cosima’s cabin where my heart is - where it always has been since our summer. Scatter my ashes there if you can ma chère._

_We do horrible things to the people we love and I am very sorry if my truth, the one I hid for many years but could never deny, has caused you pain._

_Though your Papa never knew about us, I know I’ve hurt him every day since that summer. I am sorry and I will carry that guilt forever. I didn’t want to fall for Cosima, I wasn’t supposed to, but I have – completely and absolutely._

_Please tell her I’m sorry for not trying, for leaving her, for hurting her over and over again. I have wished every day since we parted that I was there by her side when all her dreams came true. Please tell her how proud I am of what she has accomplished in her life._

_Tell Cosima that if only love were enough, we would have had lifetimes together._

_Je t’aime, Lyra. Ma plus chère fille, mon véritable amour. Nothing will ever change that._

_Maman_

 

\-----

 

“ _If only love were enough, we would have had lifetimes together,_ ” I read out loud while Lyra and I weep. I couldn’t help but agree with my Delphine’s words. We could have started our lifetime together in this very cabin; we could have had taken many trips together: me, Delphine, and Lyra, creating memories in every destination reached; we could have had fights, make-ups, birthdays, and anniversaries here or anywhere really.  If the times and circumstances were different, we could have had all that and so much more. 

“ _Where did you find this?_ ” I asked Lyra. Unlike her other entries, Delphine’s last words were written in a piece of paper stamped with _The University of British Columbia Hospital_ at the top and bottom. Lyra wiped her tears with the back of her hand and said - “ _She was in the hospital and that was the week where she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She must have slipped it in the suitcase when we came home to the ranch. It was the first thing I read._ ”

We stood there hugging in front of my drawings of Delphine for a long time - our shoulders getting soaked by the tears of the other - that we didn’t even notice Felix, Gabi, and Lory standing on the porch obviously giving us space to talk and let our emotions out. When they did enter the cabin, Gabi and Lory gravitated towards the drawings – a sad smile forming on Lory’s face as he touches my drawing of Delphine and Lyra with his fingertips.

“ _I can stay if you want me to, Auntie Cos,_ ” Felix said as he wraps his arm around my shoulder.

 “ _No, no, you have your own trip to prepare for. Thanks, but we’ll be fine, Fee,_ ” I said. Felix nods and gets a fire going before giving me a kiss goodbye on my cheek. Before leaving, he gives Lyra and Gabi a hug and tells them it was nice to meet them. Lory walks him out to the truck and having already exchanged numbers, they promised to keep in touch.

I take a deep breath and watch as Felix drives away from the cabin. While the urge to wallow in all the sadness over losing the love of my life forever is strong, I know that I have things to do – one of which is assigning rooms to Lyra and her family. I finally let go of Delphine’s urn and placed it on top of the simple coffee table that Dad built many years ago.

“ _Lyra and Gabi,_ ” I said, disrupting them while Gabi tries to calm Lyra as she sobs, “ _take the bigger room._ ” I look at Lory who’s still fixated with the drawings and said, “ _take the smaller room, Lory, it has a bunk bed – choose whatever bunk you like._ ”

“ _Where will you sleep?_ ” Lory asked.

“ _I’ll be here in the living room,_ ” I said. Unlike the couches in the farm house, the cabin’s couch is a futon that has clearly seen better days. I’ve been meaning to replace it, but found no immediate reason to do so because we’re usually outdoors when we spend time up here in the cabin.

“ _I don’t mind having a roommate,_ ” Lory said. “ _No offense,_ ” he added, “ _but your back is going to kill you if you sleep here._ ”

I managed to give him a smile and a nod, “ _okay, Lory, as long as I get the lower bunk._ ”

As Lyra and her family go to their rooms to put their things and change into more comfortable clothes, I open the cabin’s cupboards to check up on our food supplies. Satisfied with the amount of canned goods and snacks we have, I then went outside to the shed to check if we have enough firewood for today and for tomorrow. It’s more than enough. I then went around checking the empty stables, checking the water meter, and checking the solar panel meter. Everything’s good, just like George said. I was hoping to encounter a problem along the way: a leaking pipe, a misplaced saddle, a loose wire, or damp firewood – something, anything that I need to pay attention to and fix so I can keep myself pre-occupied. Because if I have nothing to do, I’m certain that I’m going to sit in a corner and cry as I hold Delphine in my arms.

While outside checking if the fire pit is clean and dry, I see Lory walking out of the cabin with a backpack. A camera is looped around his neck. He sees me and waves before coming over to where I am standing.

“ _Can I take a photo of you?_ ” the boy asked as he holds his camera.

“ _I’m a mess,_ ” I replied with a forced smirk while dabbing my fingers on the corners of my eyes where I feel the crusts of my eye makeup – a minor casualty of the tears I couldn’t stop from falling.

“ _Okay, maybe another time then,”_ he says _. “Do you want to go for a walk with me?_ ”

Though I am emotionally-spent and I am not sure if I can physically take a long walk, the prospect of having something else to do far away from the confines of the cabin appeals to me. “ _Okay, but let’s not go very far,_ ” I say. Lory offers me his arm and I wrap my hand around it as we take our first steps.

“ _Where do you want to go, Lory?_ ” I asked, expecting that maybe he would want a short tour of the nearby sights in the cabin.

“ _Anywhere really,_ ” he said. “ _Lead the way, Cosima._ ”

The weather this morning is perfect for a walk – it’s not very cold, not very windy, and the sun is up but not prickling. Before my mind has figured out where we are going, my feet have already decided our destination as we walk to a clearing a bit far from the cabin to get to the tree stump – now mossier with a rougher and crumbly bark - where I tried to teach Delphine how to throw and tie a rope. While still hanging on to him, Lory manages to take pictures of our surroundings. From where his camera is pointed, he seems to be taking a photo of the cabin from a distance. One, two clicks later, he seems to be capturing an image of the ranges. Another click and he’s taking a candid shot of himself.

After taking a few more photos, he takes off his jacket and a towel he got from his backpack and lays them on the stump and on the ground. “ _Is it okay if we hang out here for a bit?_ ” he asks me and I nod as he sits on the ground while I take a seat on the stump. We sit in silence as Lory seems to be taking in the scenery around us. I close my eyes while I breathe in the mountain air  and I can’t help but feel that in spite of all the tears I’ve spilled in the past few hours, today seems like one of those mornings that feels like a reward for all the gloom and rain we have to make do with in our lives.

“ _I bet this isn’t what you have in mind – spending the last few days of summer hanging out with an old lady,_ ” I said with my eyes still closed. His voice is laced with a hint of disbelief. “ _Are you kidding me? There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Cosima,_ ” he said. As I open my eyes, I noticed that he was taking a picture of a dandelion.

“ _I didn’t know if Maman told you this,_ ” he said while reviewing the picture in his camera, “ _but I was the one who first noticed that something may be wrong with Mémé, with Delphine._ ”

“ _No, Lyra never told me that._ ” I said.

Lory puts his camera down to pick up one of the dandelions and swirls it with his fingers. “ _It was the little things at first really,_ ” he said. “ _It started with forgetting where she placed her keys. That’s normal, right? We all lose our keys at some point,”_ he said and I agreed _. “And then it was the inedible coq au vin – it was her specialty and she put pumpkins and eggplants in them - like she forgot how to cook it overnight. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, she made crème brûlée with a dash of soy sauce..._ ” Lory said and though he makes a joking disgusted face, I can’t help picturing something else – an image of Delphine cooking dinner in our kitchen; us sharing a dinner table, inedible food be damned.

“ _When she got lost in the woods near the ranch,_ ” he said, “ _that’s when I really knew something was off._ ”

“ _She got lost?_ ” I asked not being able to imagine Delphine to be incapable of fending for herself.

“ _Yeah,”_ he said as his eyes had a distant faraway look. _“She woke up one morning to check the perimeter fences. Two hours later when she failed to come back, the ranch hands, Uncle Mark, and I went out to search for her. It took forever because I think she kept trying to find her way home. Finally we found her slumped against a tree - panicked and tired.”_ He takes a deep breath and exhales loudly before speaking again. _“I told Maman about it, and a week later she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. The farmhands said they have been noticing that something’s not right months before. I don’t think Maman will ever forgive herself for not noticing earlier._ ”

We stare out into the vast Bighorn Mountain ranges that are partially hidden by a sea of tall trees as I grapple with a particular feeling of helplessness and despair brought about by Lory’s story. “ _She talked about you, Cosima,_ ” he said attempting to switch to a fonder memory of his grandmother.

“ _Yeah, she talked about me too with your moms when she got sick,_ ” I said.

Lory shakes his head, “ _no, I mean she talked about you to me – even before getting sick,_ ” he said. And as if to prove his point, he added: “ _I was actually heading out to the cliff before I saw you outside. I asked Felix for directions this morning._ ”

The cliff where I asked Delphine to take a leap with me into the water; where I asked her to fall with me – both literally and figuratively – because I’m already in too deep, because I’m already dreading any time apart from her arms and embrace.

“ _How did you know that? What did she tell you?_ ” Lory looks at me before replying, and for a moment I forget how to breathe because his face and his expressions reminded me once again of how much he looks like his grandmother.

“ _The Adventures of Cowgirl Cora and Cowgirl Diana,”_ he said.

“ _Sorry,_ ” I said as lines form between my eyebrows. “ _I didn’t catch that._ ”

“ _When I was little,”_ Lory reminisced, _“Mémé would tell me stories about two cowgirls who were on a mission to herd a flock of sheep for the summer. They had all sorts of adventures together - the night they had to save the herd from coyotes; the day the wind blew so hard and they had to search for Cowgirl Cora’s drawings; the day Cowgirl Diana roped in a ram for the first time; the day Cowgirl Cora and Cowgirl Diana learned about the stars and constellations. It fascinated me because I was so in love with the Toy Story movies and with the idea of being a real cowboy,_ ” he chuckled.

 _“How did you know that it was us? You were a child,”_ I said.

Lory palmed his stubbles as he spoke. “ _At first, I thought Mémé was telling me Mom and Maman’s story. But when I was 8 she told me that Cowgirl Cora and Diana had an adventure where they jumped off a cliff into the water. That’s what gave it away – Maman doesn’t know how to swim. As I got older, I realized that not only was it not my moms’ story - it was Mémé Delphine’s story,_ ” he explained. 

“ _Tell me more about Cowgirl Cora and Cowgirl Diana’s Cliff Adventure then,_ ” I asked, my eyes getting glossy.

“ _They jumped hand-in-hand into the water from a very high cliff,_ ” Lory said. “ _It was a special cliff, Mémé said, and Cowgirl Diana was afraid at first but she still jumped because she trusts and loves Cowgirl Cora. I asked her how I would find Cowgirl Cora and Diana’s special cliff, and she said that their cliff has a red heart drawn at the base. If I find that heart, I’ve found their cliff.”_

Lory blows the dandelion seeds while I take in his story from his childhood. “ _You know what’s funny, Cosima,”_ he said as he watches the seeds fly away, _“I’ve dove from cliffs back at Washington with some college buddies – in Whistle Lake and in Lake Serene, and every time I jumped into the water, I checked if it’s their cliff._ ”

“ _How did you even know there was a cliff here?_ ” I asked.

“ _Felix may have mentioned skinny-dipping with Colin there when we were talking last night after dinner,_ ” he said with a shy grin. “ _I never read Mémé’s diaries – not that I didn’t want to, I don’t know why really. But when Maman told me about you and Wyoming, all her stories suddenly made more sense – to me, at least._ ”

I reach into the pocket of my pants where I placed Delphine’s last letter. “ _Can you help me figure this out?_ ” I said as I unfold the letter.

 

\-----

_The music's playing on_

_But something's wrong, something's gone._

_The majors turning blue,_

_And so did you, so did you._

_I'm noticing the dirt, and it hurts that you left._

_You really had to go, so you say, so you say._

_Birds leave their nests and they fly_

_There's nobody left here, but I._

_If there is a chance, just one in this world_

_That we'll ever dance, again as it turns_

_If there is a chance, if there is a way,_

_There's one record left that you haven't heard._

_Then I’ll keep it spinning_

 

_\-----_

 

At the back of her letter to Lyra, Delphine jotted an unfamiliar poem or a song. Lory reads it and hums, before reaching into his own pocket for his phone. He taps away, searching for something, and when he seems to have found what he’s looking for, he looks at me to speak. 

“ _There’s this totally made-up game Mémé and I used to play to survive long and boring car rides – it’s called Playlist. You choose one song to play, and then I choose one, and so on. You get 5 skips – the first person who uses all their skips loses. The loser usually buys lunch or makes breakfast the next day. This is the song, Cosima,”_ he said as he unlocks his phone and presses play. A melancholic song sung by a woman streams out of Lory’s phone singing the lyrics Delphine wrote down. 

_“It’s ‘If There Is a Chance’ by The Cardigans,_ ” he said.

I listen to the song and try to understand its words and melody. As it reaches a sad ad lib, I begin to wonder who this song is for: Is it more for her? Is it more for me? Or is the song for the both of us? Maybe it’s for the ashes of dreams and feelings that we allowed to slip away and flow into the ether. “ _This is a nice song,”_ I said. _“Sad, but nice,_ ” and Lory nods in approval. “ _This was actually a bonus track – almost never made the album. The Cardigans is more than just Lovefool, you know,_ ” he said, his references flying over my head, “ _I never play this song in our game – Mémé Delphine loved it too much and never skipped it._ ”

The song ends and Lory tucks his phone back into his pocket but not before looking at me and wiping a few tears that trickled from my eyes. “ _I think I’m going to the cliff now, Cosima,_ ” he said as he stands and helps me get up, “ _to check if it’s Cora and Diana’s.”_ He has a beaming smile on his face as he picks up his towel and shoves it in his bag. “ _Felix said it’s not that far from here, maybe I can come back by lunch...and we can talk some more,_ ” Lory assumed while re-wearing his jacket.

“ _I’d like that, Lory,_ ” I replied.

I don’t know if he can tell that I really wanted to join him. I haven’t been back in the cliff since that summer with Delphine, but I’m too old and my limbs will barely survive the hike. So as he walked away, all I can say was “ _take care out there_ ”. He turns around, gives me a wave of his hand and a smile – a smile so similar to that of his grandmother’s that it made my breath hitch.

 

\-----

There was a cautious knock on the door while I was lying down and hiding under the bed covers like a terrified child. Seeing Cosima’s reaction to Maman’s urn was more overwhelming and emotionally-tiring than I ever thought or ever prepared myself for. I thought I was doing a good job at keeping the emotions at bay but when I saw Cosima’s drawings of Maman, it drove home the point that I am here in Wyoming not only to break Cosima’s heart into fine dust, but to relive the pain of losing my mother. Letting go of Maman when she was in the hospital and saying goodbye before and after her cremation was unbearable enough; and now we have to do it all over again – this time in the presence of her long-lost love of her life.

Another knock, this time a louder and more purposeful one, made me get out of bed to open the door. For the second time this day, Gabi walks into a room bearing hot beverages – clutching at the mugs’ ears with one hand. She urges me to get one of the cups and gives me a worried look. “ _I may have something that can help you,_ ” she said as I get my cup of coffee. “ _Come on, let’s go outside,_ ” she added, grabbing her knapsack as I get one of the cups before leaving the room.

We sit around the fire pit by the cabin while I drink my coffee – hoping that it would give me a burst of energy to power through the emotions that come with Maman’s requests. Gabi rummages inside her bag, “ _I know it’s bad for you,_ ” she said as she winces, “ _but I think you’ve been dying for one of these since yesterday._ ”It’s ridiculous how giddy I got with Gabi’s unexpected gift - a lighter and a pack of Dunhill Lights. “ _Just don’t overdo it,_ ” she said as I put a cigarette between my lips and light it up.

“ _There’s that smile,_ ” she said as she caresses my cheek while I blow a puff of smoke in the other direction.

“ _Where’s Lory?_ ” I asked, my mood improving with every inhale and exhale. “ _Out,_ ” Gabi said as she drinks her tea. “ _Felix told him about some nice spots near here and I think that’s where he went._ ” While I was a bit worried that my son is off to some adventure alone in an unfamiliar territory, I also know that he’s used to the outdoors, having spent most of his childhood and almost all of his free time when he’s not in school at Maman’s ranch.

As if she’s thinking what I’m thinking, Gabi shrugs, “ _he’ll be fine, Ly. Lory can take care of himself. How are you though? Feeling better?_ ”

There’s no use evading and lying to Gabi - she’ll just see right through it. “ _Just tired,_ ” I said. “ _I just took a minute to deal with the exhaustion from the trip, the tears, the crying, and all the memories this cabin holds. It’s more overwhelming than I expected,_ ” as I said before lighting another cigarette while Gabi shoots me a look that is part-disappointed and part-relieved.

I look down at my shoes while taking another long drag and drinking my coffee. “ _Gabi, this is the fourth time I’m saying goodbye to Maman. And every goodbye is like picking off scabs from a wound that seems to be designed to never heal._ ”

“ _It’s almost over,_ ” she said while she presses on my arm. “ _I’m pretty sure that wherever she is, Delphine is happy that a part of her made it back here – and you made that possible, Ly._ ”

 “ _I know,_ ” I said. “ _That’s not really what’s bothering me._ ”

I take a deep breath and put down the coffee on the ground so I can massage my temples. Gabi takes that same hand, holding on to it while running her thumb over the veins with just the right amount of pressure - a comforting tactic she does when I get migraines. “ _Then tell me, babe,_ ” she said.

“ _It’s like a very sad, very tragic film,_ ” I said with a smirk which made Gabi’s head tilt to the side, begging for me to elaborate. “ _From the moment Maman mentioned Cosima, from the moment I opened that first journal, and from the moment I stepped foot in Wyoming, I feel like I’m trapped in a sad love story that ends in death and in things left unsaid forever. I know I shouldn’t be thinking this, but if it weren’t for me, Delphine and Cosima would still be together,_ ” I said, trying to choke back sobs.

 “ _Now, don’t say that,_ ” she said while she holds my hand and squeezes it tight. “ _That’s the exhaustion talking, Lyra. Nobody’s to blame here, especially not you. Delphine never felt that way and I’m sure as hell that Cosima doesn’t too. You have to throw that thought out of your head or I’m taking back the cigarettes,_ ” she managed to joke. And Gabi’s right, there’s nobody to blame here and I’m sure nobody feels that way. But it’s been at the back of my head ever since I found out.

“ _You know I wanted to ask Maman if she would have left Papa and stayed here with Cosima if she weren’t pregnant with me. I never did though – I was too afraid of her answer,_ ” I said while I stub the cigarette on the pit.

“ _The answer doesn’t matter, Lyra,_ ” a voice that is not Gabi’s said. We turn around and see Cosima only a foot away from us, our conversation within earshot. When she got to where we are, she pats my shoulder and gives me a sad smile. “ _I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but please, please don’t think this way. It’s unfair to Delphine,”_ she sits next to me and brushes her fingers on the edges of my face, _“because I’m sure that the minute she knew she had you, she already loves you more than anyone, anything in this world. That’s all that matters, Lyra._ ”

 _“And for what it’s worth,”_ she adds, “ _if we had a chance at a life together, I would have done everything in my power for us to have a nice, quiet, and happy life. I would have loved you as my own, Lyra._ ” I look at Cosima – her eyes brimming with sincerity and tears, and I can’t think of anything else to do but to hug her. “ _If this is how our story ends,_ ” Cosima said as she strokes my hair, “ _I could think of no other people to share this ending with, Lyra._ ” Gabi joins our embrace and gives me a loving kiss on my head. “ _I am sure Delphine is happy wherever she is,_ ” she said to us, “ _because the two people she loved most in the world are here for her._ ”

Cosima was the first to break away to wipe her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. “ _We should stop meeting up like this,_ ” she quipped, “ _we’re capable of other emotions apart from sadness._ ” Just then, Gabi’s stomach chimed in with a loud and low growl, and we laugh at my wife’s bad timing. “ _I think that’s our cue to prepare lunch, non?_ ” I said as the three of us make our way back inside the cabin with smiles on our faces for a change.

The supplies we brought (that were lovingly packed by Kira) and the canned goods that George and Felix stored before going home are more than enough to make baked beans sandwiches with cheese, bacon, and peppers for lunch. The three of us relish having something else to do apart from cry, be worried, and get emotional. Before long, we were locked in an animated conversation about our honeymoon.

“ _We honeymooned in Mexico,”_ I said, “ _I did all the packing while Little Miss over here only brought a duffel bag...filled with nothing but booze.”_

“ _A duffel bag of fun,_ ” Gabi said with a chuckle. “ _In my defense, we just came from a very long work trip in Qatar during the Holy Month of Ramadan - you cannot buy alcohol from anywhere for an entire month, so excuse me for missing wine and vodka so much._ ”

“ _Did you happen to bring that same duffel bag?_ ” Cosima jokingly asked. “ _I think we can all use a stiff drink._ ”

“ _In fact I did,_ ” my wife proudly replied. “ _Though now it’s more of a knapsack of vices – a few bottles of red and cancer sticks for my Miss Smokey,_ ” Gabi said while giving a pointed look my way.

“ _So you worked together?_ ” Cosima inquired.

 “ _Oui,_ ” I said. “ _On and off, depending on the project. I was with the WHO full-time and then as a consultant from around 2002 up until 2013, after that I started teaching. Gabi also teaches but she has been with the Canada National Research Council for quite some time now and they loaned her to us very now and then._ ”

“ _Your mom,_ ” Cosima said, “ _was very proud of you, I can tell from her journals._ ”

I smile while I toast our sandwiches. I’ve always known that Maman was proud of what I’ve done with my life and I’m happy that she was somehow able to live vicariously through me. “ _She was very supportive,_ ” I said. “ _She would always say that my happiness is her own, so whatever I pursued, she was always there for me. I was very lucky to have a Maman like her._ ”

Cosima gives me a tight-lipped smile. “ _So Gabi tells me you’ve been to San Fran, to the gallery? How did you know about that?”_

Gabi looks at me, as if trying to decipher how I was going to answer Cosima’s underlying question – ‘ _How and when did you find out where I am?_ ’ so I went out with it. “ _For the longest time, all we have was your first name. We searched online and it didn’t yield anything useful. When finally we got a last name, we found out about the gallery that shows your work.”_

Sensing my difficulty in trying to explain how we found her, Gabi said, “ _over the phone, they were tight-lipped about how we can contact you, but as we read more of Delphine’s journals, we had enough information to finally get an address and a phone number. So when we visited the gallery and they told us you’re in Wyoming, we knew where to go._ ”

“ _We got your address and your phone number around late June –a few weeks before Maman passed away,_ ” I added as Cosima nods and asks her other underlying question, the one I wouldn’t know how to answer - “ _Why didn’t you tell me about Delphine then?_ ”

“ _Honestly,”_ I said, “ _I didn’t know what to say, how to even begin. We had no idea about the life you have – if you’re attached, if you’re healthy enough to travel, if you even wanted to see Maman,_ ” I added, unsure about my next words and how she’ll receive them. “ _And at that time, she was already drifting in and out consciousness – her kidneys were shutting down and failing on a daily basis._ ”

“ _It was a very confusing time for us,_ ” Gabi said as I reach out to touch Cosima’s hand. “ _We were not only trying to piece the puzzle together, but we were also dealing with Delphine’s failing health. We were in and out of the hospital for the most part of June and July._ ”

I look at Cosima staring at Maman’s urn and probably getting her heart more broken by what we are saying about how Maman suffered because of her illnesses. “ _I’m sorry, Cosima. We should have gotten in touch earlier - you could have had a chance to spend some time with Maman. There’s no excuse for what we didn’t do,_ ” I said.

Cosima looks up and nods. “ _Maybe it was for the best,_ ” she said as her voice trembles. “ _I wouldn’t know if I can survive seeing Delphine in pain – sick and helpless. I think I would have lost my mind – I saw my own mother deteriorate and those images still haunt me to this day. Besides Lyra,_ ” she adds as she tries to hide her tears by looking down and wiping our plates with a clean cloth, “ _I’m nobody – I’m just someone from the past._ ”

“ _That’s not true,_ ” I immediately say. “ _You’re not a nobody to Delphine – you are everything to her. And you’re not a nobody to us either. The reason why I came down here and gave you her journals is for you to see that Maman chose you every day, Cosima. She didn’t need to see you, didn’t need to be with you to do that. And in her own way, she made sure that you are a part of our lives: from the constellations, to her stories for Lory and her advices to me. You, Cosima, have been a part of our lives – we just didn’t know it. You are essentially family to us._ ”

Misty-eyed in the kitchen, Cosima wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I realized that this embrace is unlike the earlier hugs we have shared – for what it lacked in awkwardness or politeness was made up for by the strong underlying promise of being there for each other from here on in. It may seem like a simple gesture of affection, but to me it felt like the beginning of a strong foundation that establishes and emphasizes Cosima’s permanent place in our lives.

As Gabi once again tried to soothe us by joking that she’s uncorking one of her wine bottles right now so we can get sloshed for a change, Lory suddenly barges inside the cabin. “ _Cosima! Cosima!_ ” he said. “ _You won’t believe it! Look at this!_ ” Still dripping wet from what I could only guess as combination of sweat and water, Lory walks over to the kitchen and shows his camera to Cosima.

“ _I’ve found Diana and Cora’s cliff, Cosima! The heart - look, it’s still there, it survived,_ ” he excitedly shared as I see a slow smile building up on Cosima’s face. “ _What?_ ” Gabi asked, unable to follow what our son is saying while looking at a photo of a faded graffiti of a heart with the words ‘ _Summer 1957’_ below it drawn on a rock near the water. I can’t help but smile because the interaction reminds me of Lory’s many conversations with his Mémé - the kind of conversations that only they can understand.

‘ _J'ai tenu ma promesse, maman,_ ’ I think to myself as Cosima delicately runs her fingers on the image captured by Lory’s camera.

 The entire week has been bittersweet, to say the least. But I think that wherever she may be, Maman can find some comfort and happiness at how her story ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, The Cardigans is more than just Lovefool :). If There Is a Chance is just one of their many awesome songs -my personal favorites are Carnival, Daddy's Car, and For What It's Worth. 
> 
> I know that my work is not the easiest thing to read (it's unbeta'd) so thank you for checking this fic out, leaving comments, and kudos. Let me know what worked and didn't work for you so I can make my upcoming fics (happier, slice of life, nobody dies future fics) better. 
> 
> This story is almost over - there are only 2 chapters to go. As we near the end, I again want to thank tumblweed for inspiring this fic. 
> 
> Here's to hoping all is well with you all.


	14. Goodbye: September 1, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Cosima’s perspective.

I lie awake in bed while I listen to the gentle sounds of Lory’s slumber. Yesterday while we were having lunch, I filled Lyra and Gabi in about Lory’s discovery of our cliff and how my scribbles weathered the elements. Seeing the picture of the heart that I drew for our Summer of 1957 infused me with hope - somehow, someway, a part of Delphine and me survived the test of time. A part of us did not wither under the storms, droughts, and winters that our love had to deal with. It’s all the sign we needed to decide that our first and last dinner here in the cabin should be a celebration of Delphine’s life: of the memories she left behind and of the love she has given in this world. The tears can wait until tomorrow when we have to fulfill her last wish.

So last night after a simple dinner of baked potatoes and beans, I finally got to have the s’mores I’ve been craving for since our get-together at the farm house. We gathered around the fire pit – the same place where Delphine and I got drunk on my father’s moonshine and where we shared the first of our many (but never enough) kisses. Gabi stayed true to her word of opening the bottles of wine she brought for the trip, and they went so well with the s’mores and the free-flowing conversations we were having. After doing the dishes, Lyra came out to join us, bringing the urn with her and placing it on the stump between our seats. It’s only fitting I guess for the person we are celebrating to be with us in some form or another.

As I toss and turn on my bunk now while dreading the thought of the sun rising anytime soon, I try to not think about what this day holds by remembering the wonderful words Delphine’s family shared last night.

\-----

 

“ _She tried to teach me how to cook when I was 16,_ ” Gabi said. “ _I don’t know if she knew about us back then,_ ” moving her hands back and forth between her and Lyra, “ _but she told me that I should learn how because cooking is a way to express my love for someone special._ ” 

“ _Well if your cooking is an expression of love, Mom,_ ” Lory said, “ _you hate us – me especially, it seems,_ ” he said with a snort as he recounted the recent vegetable sludge dinner orchestrated by his Mom for him and his girlfriend for my sake.

“ _Hey! I’ve served you nice things,_ ” Gabi said feigning a look of betrayal at her son’s quip. To which Lory cleverly replied, “ _Mom, I don’t think giving me a bowl of Lucky Charms or packing a secret Skittles stash in my lunchbox counts._ ”

“ _So what did you learn from Maman?_ ” Lyra asked, amused with Gabi’s story and her banter with their son.

“ _The only thing I know how to cook from start to finish – crepes. So maybe she did know about us babe,_ ” Gabi deduced, “ _because crepes are your favorite._ ”       

“ _Maybe she did,_ ” Lyra answered. “ _You know she never liked any of the boyfriends I brought home,_ ” she added. I heard Lory groan at the prospect of his parents over-sharing the details of their dating life, and I also saw him preparing to cover his ears from my periphery.

“ _That’s not true,_ ” Gabi said. “ _She was alright with them as long as you’re happy. And I do know that she liked Donnie – the doofy guy you went home with...Christmas 1978, I think? He helped in the ranch while he was there. Delphine said she liked him because he’s strong like a baby ox._ ” The two of them laughed as they recall their stories, but I sensed that they also felt comforted by the fact that stories of bringing home boyfriends during holidays remained just that – stories from the past, and not future realities they had to live in and deal with.

“ _My favorite memory of Mémé has to be..._ ” Lory said as he tried to sift through years of conversation, stories, and experiences with his grandmother, “ _the drive and drop-off to UDub._ ”

“ _Wow, what a cool kid, bringing Grams with him to college,_ ” Gabi joked. “ _It was cool, Mom_ ” Lory said. “ _We took our time. UDub was only a few hours away from Pemberton – that’s where the ranch is, Cosima,”_ he said. _“But we made stops in Mount Currie and even Mount Seymour. We even went to Hopkins Landing just for kicks._ ”

Lyra and Gabi fondly looked at their son as he continued to speak. “ _It was our last adventure together,_ ” Lory said while drawing circles on the rim of his recently-empty wine glass. He looked at me and said, “ _Remember that car game I told you about this morning? I lost on the drive to UDub, and that’s the prize she wanted - one last adventure with her grandson. So we went to all those places. I actually went back there before going back to school after she died..._ ”   

Lyra wiped a few errant tears from her eyes, “ _I remember how tired she was when she came home,_ ” she said. “ _What was supposed to be a day away became a 3-day trip...and I got worried. But you made her so happy, Lory..._ ”

He nodded and squinted while making another batch of s’mores for everybody. “ _I actually had a feeling that she wanted to go somewhere else – somewhere farther,”_ he said as he shifted his gaze from Lyra to me and to Lyra again _. “I think she wanted to go here, Maman. She just didn’t know how to say it to me – how to explain why she wanted to drive to Wyoming. I think that’s why we went to the mountains, so she can pretend that we’re somewhere in the middle of Bighorn. I don’t know..._ ” as he passed one of the treats to his Mom.

I can’t help but think of what could have happened if Delphine did show up at the house with Lory in tow. Knowing what I know now, I am pretty sure that if she showed up at my doorstep I would have kissed her and hugged her so tight. But even without the journals and the stories from her family, I know for certain that if she did went here, I won’t ever let her go – I would have held on to her for as long as she’ll let me, and I would have gone with her to wherever she’s going. 

“ _Hey kid,_ ” Gabi jokingly cried out, “ _is this your expression of love to me? Because it kinda sucks,_ ” as she examined the less-than-perfect and charred s’more her son gave her. Lory eked out a mischievous smile. At that point, I couldn’t help but look at the sweet treat Lory made for me – grinning at how perfectly charred and smooshed it is.

“ _What is your favorite memory of your mom?_ ” I asked Lyra who was looking to Gabi for permission to light another cigarette.

“ _There are lots of winners there,_ ” Lyra said with a shy smile before putting a cigarette between her lips once Gabi gave her the go-ahead. “ _What I remember distinctly is when she took me with her to work. I remember crawling from table to table, from cubicle to cubicle when we’re at her office. I remember her saying ‘Où es-tu, Lyra?’ and Scott – Gabi’s dad, will always try to help me hide fromher,_ ” she said with a chuckle while looking at me and her wife.

“ _And then there were the road trips to farms, which I always got excited about. In one trip, we went to Havre for what she called a routine cattle check, when out of nowhere one of their first-calf Holstein heifers went into labor. I saw Maman deliver twins which was quite rare as you know, Cosima. I think it was the first time that I saw her not just as my mom, but as somebody awesome. I was so impressed with my Maman, but I also never forgot the smell of her soiled button-down shirt, and how I went home with her dressed in a clean but holey shirt and a denim jumper that one of the ranch hands lent her._ ”

“ _She was a very good veterinarian,_ ” I said. “ _I think it’s one of the reasons why I fell for her._ ”

“ _What is your favorite memory of her?_ ” Lory asked me.

Even when I was expecting it, his question still caught me off guard. I only have a few shelves of memories and experiences with Delphine – it shouldn’t be hard to pick the best one. But it was still a struggle to come up with a definitive answer because I wanted to pick a memory that would impress Delphine’s family who has libraries of memories of her.

I sighed when the answer finally came to me. Funny what the mind remembers when it’s grappling with soul-crushing yearning.

“ _Vienne la nuit sonne l’heure. Les jours s’en vont je demeure_ ,” I said, trying my best to say the words right.

Lyra gazed at me and blew out her cigarette’s smoke as she pulled her wine glass tight against her chest. “ _Le Pont Mirabeau_ ,” she whispered. “ _Maman’s favorite..._ ”

 

\-----

 

Even if it’s still quite dark outside, I can no longer try to sleep. I sit up and lean against the wall near the bedroom window, remembering Delphine telling me her favorite poem while we were in the highlands during a particularly exhausting trip of herding sheep. Contrary to what anyone from the outside looking in can see, that wasn’t an ordinary workday. Everything has changed the night before when we had sex for the first time, and though that happened with the aid of alcohol, the emotions we shared as we held each other and came undone still felt very real not just that night, but even now after all these years. No amount of time or alcohol has washed those feelings away – I should know, I’ve felt and lived with those emotions since that night.

The fear of falling for Delphine and the consequences that come with it were the reasons why I tried to convince myself that there is no place in the world for what I feel for her. In my head, I wanted to just believe that we simply cannot and will never happen - be it here in Wyoming or anywhere. That thought was in my head the first time I saw her in our barn; in the morning I cooked breakfast for her and my Dad; when we were travelling up to the cabin; and every night before our first kiss when I went to sleep tired from a day’s work. But she knocked on my door that night and before I knew it, there she was on my bed - hiking up her nightgown to her waist and tearing her soaked underwear off as I quake and unfold under her with every touch and kiss. A month’s worth of dissuading and repressing what I feel for her gone after one inebriated kiss, after one drunken night of passion.

Reality managed to rear its ugly head that night when coyotes attacked the herd. I thought it was an ominous sign that it would only take minutes for Delphine to realize that she made a huge mistake. Surprisingly, what happened in the morning deviated from the script I had crafted in my head – I was expecting the worst, but instead she told me that I am the difficult choice she chooses, that she wants me in her life. And though I wasn’t prepared for her to give our relationship (or whatever we were) a shot, the moment she said those words it became my mission to build a world where the idea and reality of our love can exist.

But that mission would be cut short by more pressing realities that we cannot delay, bury, or deny.  

I have to admit though that while it was enchanting to hear Delphine recite her favorite poem, I didn’t understand most of it. I only got bits and pieces about days going by and still choosing to stay, and about how all love goes by eventually. And as my teardrops fell, so did the walls I built around my heart to protect it from future vulnerabilities.

With every line she uttered, she caught my heart in a tighter and tighter vice-like grip. And by the time she’s finished, I know I’m doomed to love her with everything I have even when she can never be mine. I accepted my fate and allowed myself to recognize that the she is my soulmate, my truest love, and that nobody will probably ever come close (and like a self-fulfilling prophecy, nobody did). When that realization hit me, all I could do is kiss her as tenderly and sincerely as I possibly can. As we made our way back to the cabin, I find myself wanting to shout from the mountaintops that _“I HAVE FOUND THE ONE FOR ME! I LOVE DELPHINE CORMIER! AND SHE LOVES ME TOO!”_ I should have screamed them at the top of my lungs – after all, the sheep are too stupid and the horses cannot talk.

As the memories of how I fell for Delphine engulf my mind, so did the emotions that mired the aftermath of our summer.  In the months since our return to the lowlands, I constantly beat myself up for even entertaining the thought of falling in love and starting a relationship with a married woman. Still though, whenever I ask myself if I would change things if I can go back to that moment when she was telling me about The Mirabeau Bridge, I find myself shaking my head and saying no. I wouldn’t change a thing nor would I apologize for my heart. If I could go back in time though, I would have tried harder. I wouldn’t have run to Florida in a craven act of self-preservation. I would have pursued her relentlessly, my fate is sealed anyway. But all these things are easier said than done.

Years later when I was studying in Atlanta, I stumbled upon a collection of French poems in the library one afternoon. While thoughts of Delphine have lessened over time, the pull to know more about her poem was still too strong and I found myself disregarding my homework to read through the book in search of those lines that I remembered. I finally found it along with an English translation. After reading it, I discreetly tore the page from the book and put it in my pocket.

I couldn’t find it in me to throw away the poem even as the days of trying to live my life sans Delphine has rolled into years. It’s the only thing I have left of her so I held on to it - deliberately at first, then absentmindedly as the years progressed. That old, yellowed page was with me in every new apartment I moved into, and in every place I visited and lived in. After reading her first journal, I looked for it in one of my boxes to use it as a bookmark. It is now tucked in one of Delphine’s journals that I brought for this trip.

Maybe like Delphine, the torn up poem was my own small may of choosing her every day even if we weren’t together.

 

\-----

 

The quiet sunlight that seeped out of the window and the alarm blaring from Lory’s phone snapped me out of my daydreams and thoughts. Not long after snoozing his first alarm, a louder and more obnoxious sound came thundering out of his phone. “ _Good morning, Lory,_ ” I said while tapping the top bunk’s frame.

“ _Hey Cosima,_ ” I hear him mumble. “ _Did you sleep well?_ ” I asked as I pull a pillow close to me.

“ _Yeah, I was out like a light because of the hike and the wine,”_ he said while he cracks his knuckles _. How about you, Cosima?_ ”

“ _I slept well enough,_ ” I said as he effortlessly makes his way down from the top bunk to give me a sleepy smile before going out to use the washroom.

Alone in my childhood bedroom in the cabin, I got up from by bed to put on my robe. The closet near the bed holds the collection of books that I brought with me in my many trips to this cabin as a child and as a young woman. I hovered over the remnants of my past and I run my fingers on the spines of books I remember enjoying and poring over: The Borrowers; The Golden Book of Astronomy; and Hands, Eyes, and Musculature: A Sketch Study. There are books that I don’t remember owning and were most likely brought here by my family: The Ripliad books (most likely brought by Cal or Sarah); the Kinsey Milhone Alphabet Series arranged in order from “A” is for Alibi to “U” is for Undertow (most likely Kira’s and Felix’s); and old graphic novels and comic books.

Hidden in the far end behind the stack is my most cherished and guarded childhood possession – the one I knew I couldn’t bring back home to the farm house. The leather binder of my old sketchbook has faded and cracked in the many years since it was last used and opened. In spite of that though, my earliest sketches of my family, of Delphine, of my beloved farm animals, and of the landscapes surrounding the cabin remain safely tucked inside.

As I go through the pages, a couple of works caught my eye. The first one was a barely half-finished sketch of Delphine – a product of doing blind contours while in the highlands, drawn shortly before we made love completely sober for the first time. When Lyra told me about the first time Delphine mentioned me to her, I blushed at the thought that that afternoon is memorable not only to me, but also to her. Once we got back to the cabin very satisfied and flushed from an afternoon of enthusiastic lovemaking, I remember putting this sketch inside the binder, a silly, toothy smile etched on my face.

Looking at the sketch now, I have always known ever since I met Delphine that whenever I’m with her - be it fully-clothed or bare-naked – that I won’t be able to help myself from trying to obsessively memorize everything about her: her cute accent; how she kisses; the way she smells; how she drinks her coffee; her taste; the way she runs her fingers through her hair; how it feels to be held in her arms; the way she holds a book, dog-earring pages with passages she finds interesting; the way she pulls me in for a kiss; the sounds she makes as she comes; her freckles and moles; the way she bites her lips; the way her brows furrow and how the tip of her tongue gets caught between her teeth when she tries to find the English equivalent of her thoughts in French.  

I can go on and on about the many things about Delphine that I have assiduously filed in the recesses of my mind and heart. It is what makes her standout from the others that followed – when I’m with Delphine, there’s always something new to gaze at, something new to memorize.  

Which is why the second sketch captured my attention - I remember drawing it, I just don’t recall filing it. Delphine must have put it in there after our last argument, when I left her alone to cry in the very same bedroom where we held each other night after night since getting drunk on my father’s moonshine.

For as long as I live, I would never forget the circumstance surrounding the second sketch. It was my last drawing of her that she actually posed for – the rest of my sketches of her after were drawn completely from memory. It was the last sketch made before the last time we made love here in the cabin – when I couldn’t hold in my I-love-you’s any longer and I had to hear it back because I know she felt the same way too. This sketch is far from my best work - it is nothing but a sloppy and hazy outline of Delphine, with one of her delicate hands resting below her belly button, highly protective of the life that is growing there at that time.

I never got to tell her how I found out that she’s pregnant because of the anger and hurt that lingered during our last remaining moments together.

I got my period a couple of days after arriving at the highlands but it already stopped by the time Delphine looked into my sketchbook for the first time. Apart from the usual ranch chores, I was also on trash duty every night, and although I wasn’t actively looking, I didn’t notice a different set of tampon wrappers apart from mine.

I didn’t really think much of it then, and it became the farthest thing on my mind after we began sleeping together - when all I can really think about is her and how I want to always have her near me. But every time we lay next to each other, I would always notice something different in Delphine – nipples that are more sensitive to my kisses and touch; swollen and bigger breasts; and an overall different glow when I look into her face and eyes. Paired with the empty trash bins, I told myself that maybe the stressful physical demands of our work in the ranch and the change in her diet are affecting her cycle.

So she missed her period, no big deal. It’s not like either of us can get pregnant by accident.

It was certainly never my intention to bring up menstruation as a way of telling time whenever we’re in the highlands that night we stargazed and I told her about our Orion. But her reaction to what I said - a mixture of confusion, dread, and protectiveness - confirmed what I have suspected as a woman and what I have feared as her lover: Delphine is pregnant with Christophe’s child.

I felt like I was doused with icy water as I watch her run her fingers through her knotted hair over and over again, while hearing her quick, sharp, and panicked breaths. She couldn’t get away from my embrace fast enough. That night, she slept in this room instead of sharing a bed with me like we have grown accustomed to through the many nights prior when we made love to the point of blissful exhaustion. While she’s in the room, I stayed in the kitchen drinking tea, trying to come to grips with what’s happening.

I was up all night and it was an exercise in push-and-pull from evening to daybreak: one minute I decided to stop sleeping with her and just be friends; only to change my mind in the next minute – unable to imagine not touching her, not kissing her, and not being able to tell her how much I love her. By sunrise, a decision has been reached. I was on a mission after all: a mission to build a world where me and Delphine - where us - can happen, exist, and even flourish. So I have decided that I can give her a choice: we can stay and live here in the cabin all year. We can raise her baby – our baby if she’d allow it – together. We can tend to the herd, grow our own vegetables, sit every night cuddled by the fire, and convert the smaller room into a nursery.  That plan reeked of naiveté but that doesn’t mean it can’t work - it has to work. But nothing went as planned when it comes to Delphine and me.

Funny what the heart chooses to hold on to when it’s being asked to let go.

 

\-----

 

Lory comes back in the room with a piece of toast trapped between his teeth while carrying a tray of coffee, eggs, and more toasts. He finishes the bread then sets the tray on the nightstand before sitting beside me on the lower bunk. “ _Maman made these,_ ” he said pointing to the breakfast tray. “ _I think she’s in the shower and Mom is still sleeping so I brought some here for us to share,_ ” as I take one of the coffees and bring the hot liquid to my lips.

“ _May I?_ ” he asked while pointing at my sketchbook that’s now on my lap. I nod as I hand it to him while he dusted off his hands.

He carefully checks out sketch after sketch after sketch. “ _Cowgirl Diana is right,_ ” he mutters underneath his breath.

“ _Right about what, Lory?_ ” I asked.

“ _Sketching is more than just a hobby for Cowgirl Cora. She has the gift and the talent, and her sketches are so worth saving,_ ” he said looking straight in my eyes. “ _I like this one the most,_ ” as he points to my sketch of a ewe’s reflection while drinking from a pond.

“ _You can take it, it’s yours,_ ” I said with a smile as I reach for the drawing to give it to him. He looks wide-eyed into the slightly-wrinkled sketch and to protect it from more creases, he grabs his bag from underneath the bunk to get a book big enough to sandwich the drawing in. He returns his book inside but didn’t close his bag.

“ _I have something for you too, Cosima,_ ” and he pulls out a black photo album from the bag – the cover has a cut-out photo window where there’s a picture of what seems like a farm road with a mountain range on the background. Below it, the familiar personalized Orion pattern is drawn with a silver pen.

“ _That’s the ranch back at home and that’s Mount Currie,_ ” he said before handing me the album. “ _I saw this in Mémé_ ’ _s_ _desk drawer in her study - she gave me the spare key years ago,_ ” he explained while I open the album. The first photos were taken in Wyoming – a photo of their house, a studio photo of Lyra and Delphine, and what looks like a picture of her truck. I flip the pages and see photos of various farm animals; a group of veterinarians with Delphine being the only woman in the picture; photos of Lyra growing up; and photos of her ranch in Canada.

“ _She was making this for you, Cosima...until she couldn’t anymore, I guess,_ ” Lory said as he looks on while I flip through the album. “ _It was halfway finished when I found it,_ ” he said as he thumbs from one page to another, “ _and this is where she stopped._ ”

The last page that Delphine filled has a photo of her taken around early afternoon as she looked out towards South Bay, barefoot, her hands in her pockets, and her pants rolled up to her knees - the Golden Gate Bridge visible from where she’s standing on the shores of Baker Beach. There is another picture of a younger Gabi, her mom, and Delphine with the Sather Tower behind them. And then there’s a photo of Geary Street – where the gallery that shows my works used to be located. Beside that was a small newspaper clipping from the San Francisco Chronicle:

 

_Visual Arts_

_Cosima Niehaus: “Transhumance”, Summer of ‘57 at the Bighorn Ranges, Wyoming_

_Gallery Paule Anglim, 14 Geary St. / October 3 – October 31, 1983_  

 

“ _I filled out the rest after that page,_ ” Lory said. “ _I think she wanted to write captions, but she was never able to._ ”

Before I can even react or thank Lory for the gift, there was a soft knock on the door. Lyra takes a peek and says, “ _Breakfast is ready,_ ” before noticing that we have already gotten our share of coffee and food inside the room. I motion for her to come inside the room and sit with us on the bunk which she did after giving Lory a kiss on his forehead.

 “ _What do you have there?_ ” Lyra asked.

 “ _It’s Mémé_ ’ _s scrapbook for us and Cosima,_ ” Lory answered. Sitting in the middle of Lyra and Lory, I turn the pages of the album for Lyra to see the pictures Delphine and Lory pinned. I can hear Lyra sobbing and it didn’t come as a surprise to me that I looked at her with the same tearful eyes that she has. She puts her head on my shoulder as we turn from one page to another, stopping at photos that warranted her explanation and attention.

We stayed huddled together for quite some time, and it took a while for us to notice a smiling Gabi, standing by the open door while taking a photo of the three of us – huddled on the bunk, looking at memories that Delphine left behind and wanted to share.

 

\-----

 

There’s no use delaying the inevitable, yet here I am alone in the room taking my sweet, sweet time in getting my things ready and dressing up. The cabin is small and its walls are thin enough for me to hear the chatter in the living room. From where I’m standing, I can hear Gabi’s muffled voice asking Lyra what time George will be here to give us a ride to the farm house. I know time is of the essence to them since they plan to hit the road as soon as we get back.     

Before heading in to our rooms last night, Lyra and I already discussed what’s going to happen today. She got roped in to an important meeting on the 3rd so they need to drive home as soon as we get back to the lowlands. George is going to be here by 11 o’clock so we should be scattering Delphine’s ashes after breakfast. She left it up to me to decide where exactly are we going to do that – and that, along with all the memories of Delphine that has been swimming in mind these past few days - made sleep a luxury I couldn’t afford last night.

With nothing left to do, I reluctantly step out of the room and I immediately search for Lyra. She meets my gaze with a sympathetic but questioning look and I nod. She takes the hint and picks up the urn from the coffee table to hand it to me. Pretty soon we were outside, and like yesterday, Lory offers me his arm while his moms trail behind us as we walk to the spot where we are to say our final farewell to Delphine.

To be honest, I had no idea where we’re going. My mind, in an act of defiance and denial, has not yet fully grasped just what we are about to do. But as I look down at the urn, my instincts kick in. A few tentative steps later and I find myself leading Delphine’s family towards the same spot where Delphine and I looked at the stars many years ago – when her intricate freckles reminded me of the beauty of the night sky.

I stopped and turn towards Lory. “ _Can you give me a minute before we do this?_ ”

He takes a deep breath and nods before walking to join his moms. “ _Take all the time you need, Cosima,_ ” I hear Lyra say as I see them walking away from me, giving me ample space to do what needs to be done.

The memory of the night we looked at the stars is the movie playing in my mind while I lay out a blanket on the ground to take a seat. God, I wish I had a joint right now so I can be calm enough to figure out how to begin saying goodbye to Delphine.

I manage to speak despite the uncertainty. “ _Hey Delphine,_ ” I said while I caress the urn and run my fingers on our constellation. “ _There are so many things that I want to say – so many that I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I’ll start with an ‘I’m sorry’ - for not trying hard enough. I always thought that you’re the one who is afraid of us being together, but it turns out I was the coward – I was the one who ran away. I’m sorry for giving up, for hurting you all these years._ ”

As the words escape my lips, I look up to the blue Wyoming sky and utter a silent prayer – a very big ask to whoever is up there to wake me up from this nightmare, to tell me that Delphine is alive, and to tell me that I still have a chance at making things right. I continue to look up and I felt a puff of wind blow on my face as I weep. Eventually, I stopped asking for the impossible and I’m reduced to bargaining and appealing for a reprieve from the barrage of emotions that I have been feeling since Lyra showed up at my doorstep.

I hug the urn and kiss the lid, imagining as I do that I have my arms wrapped around Delphine who is sitting in the spaces between my legs, resting her back and head on my chest, while I nuzzle her hair. “ _This week has been a rekindling for me..._ ” With my fist clenched, I know I’m sobbing uncontrollably but I pushed myself to continue talking, “ _not a rekindling of my feelings for you – that never really went away...”_ I wipe my tears on my face and on the urn with my sweater, “ _but it’s a rekindling of the dreams I thought I’ve given up on, dreams that I thought I’ve already outgrew and forgotten.”_

I push my glasses up to my forehead and rub my already-swollen, puffy, and tear-stricken eyes. “ _This week is a rekindling of my dreams of a lifetime with you, Delphine,_ ” I whispered. “ _For a long time, I tried to forget them. But this week...I saw these dreams of us in everything and everyone. And I realized that I’ve never really let them go even if you’re now really gone._ ”

I turn back to look at Lyra and her family, thinking how far we’ve come in just a week: from being essentially strangers to friends with a shared affection for the same person. “ _When I first saw Lyra, I couldn’t look at her because I see her and I remember my dreams of raising her with you - my misplaced longing for her to be a part of my life and me a part of hers.”_

The cabin is but a dot from where I’m sitting and I’m reminded of how it once housed the promise and potential of a lifetime with Delphine. “ _Even in the books in the cabin, I saw my dreams of us together. I looked at them this morning and I couldn’t stop myself from wishing that there is book of French poetry in the pile – knowing that it’s you who brought it here because you like them so much...How much you like saying them to me simply because I find you cute and irresistible when you speak to me in French.”_

I look at Lory who’s trying to keep himself busy by taking photos with his camera. “ _Your grandson told me about the stories you shared with him about two cowgirls and their adventures together. I wish I was there with you so I could have told him the stories from Cowgirl Cora’s perspective,”_ I said with a laugh amidst my sniffles _. “He said you went on road trips together and I can’t help but wish that we could have dropped him off to college together – another road trip under our belts on top of the many road trips we could have had in the years that we could have been together._ ”

I tighten my grip on Delphine’s urn, remembering how I should have held on to her this tight that night in 1962 instead of leaving her alone in a motel room to drive away from her life forever. “ _You’re right, Delphine – if love were enough, we could have had lifetimes together. Instead it was the hours away from you that felt like a lifetime...it was our separation that became our lifetime...and I...just miss you so much...all the time..._ ” I take a deep breath, willing myself to finish what I have started saying. “ _So while you loved me by choosing me every day, I love you because I see you in every part of my life. Even when I didn’t want to, I see you in everything._ ”

I reach inside my bag and took out her last journal, careful to not drench her notes with my tears. “ _I’ve been reading your journals and I hang on to your every word, to your every story.”_ As I hold on to Delphine’s journal, I remember the feeling that permeates in the pit of my soul as I read them: how I relish in the particular ache of wanting more of her with every turn of a page, but not getting any other than the words she wrote and the empty visions of a life together that her stories trigger; the particular sadness and ache that’s the thin line bridging longing and regret.

By this point, the sadness and grief has become too much for me to bear alone. Once the first batch of tears fell from my eyes, I knew more would follow to flow like a miserable stream that drowns my glasses, and sullies my shirt and the urn. The tears should have been the last thing I should have worried about because I eventually find myself dropping the diary, pressing my free hand on the ground to kneel and bend forward, and desperately coughing and gasping for air while still holding on to Delphine’s urn.

Suddenly, I feel Lyra’s embrace as she allows my torrent of tears to soak through her shirt. I no longer have the strength to speak when she held me, yet I still wondered if Lyra can hear my silent screams saying how much I still love and long for her mother, how guilty I am for not trying again, and how I still can’t let go even when I know I have to. She runs her fingers through my hair, hoping against hope that that’s enough to calm the storms of emotions inside me that are robbing me of the will to go on. Lyra held me as I tremble in despair, until that moment of reprieve I asked for came in the form of silent tears that replaced my desperate weeping.

“ _I’m ready,_ ” I say to Lyra while trying to be strong so I can save what little pride I have left after unabashedly falling apart in front of them. She looks at me with quivering lips and proceeds to open the urn.  I put my hand on hers and together we let go of Delphine’s ashes on a nearby stream.

 

_“L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante,”_ Lyra said - her voice almost a whisper.

“ _All love goes by as water to the sea_ ,” I say through the lump in my throat.

_“ L'amour s'en va...”_

_“All love goes by...”_

_“Comme la vie est lente...”_

_“How slow life seems to me...”_

_“Et comme l'Espérance est violente...”_

_“How violent the hope of love can be...”_

 

It was over before we knew it.

 

\-----

 

Lyra and I walk huddled together as we make our way back to the cabin. Lory and Gabi are close behind, carrying our things and Delphine’s now-empty urn. From afar, I can see the outline of George’s truck before I see him coming out of the cabin with bags in both hands, loading them in to the truck’s bed. He sees us walking towards him and waves.

Before we reach the porch, Lyra gives me a hug. She kisses me on my forehead before letting me go. “ _Thank you, Cosima, for fulfilling Maman’s wish._ ” I nod and George approaches us and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “ _Kira suggested I come in a bit earlier, we’re going to have a quick lunch at the house,_ ” he said.

“ _That’s a good idea,_ ” I said, not being able to resist looking forward to a quiet drive back to the lowlands.

Lyra, Gabi, and Lory do a quick check of the cabin to see if they left anything inside. From the porch, George re-assures them that if they do leave anything behind, he’d be sure to mail it immediately. As they get inside the truck, I stop by the open passenger seat door to take one last look to where we just came from – unsure of when I can go back to the cabin, or if I even want to go back here.

I uttered the words that I know are and have always been the one constant truth in my life. “ _I love you, Delphine Cormier,_ ” I said. “ _I hope to see you soon._ ” I give George a nod and a tight-lipped smile as I slide into the front seat and slam the door shut. I can’t find it in me to put up a struggle so I let sleep take me as soon as we hit the road.

 

\-----

 

_‘Cos! Cosima! Auntie Cos!_ ’ are the words I woke up to as I open my swollen eyes and adjust to the bright white light. My glasses are askew and a bit foggy so it took me quite a while to see Kira and Felix’s pale and nervous faces. They were hovering over me and as I absentmindedly wipe away the drool that pooled on my shoulder, I realized that I’m awkwardly slumped to the left side of the front seat. Wearing my glasses again after quickly cleaning it with the hem of my shirt, I caught a glance of Lyra wearing a stethoscope around her neck and the same concerned look on her face. 

“ _You got us worried there!_ ” Kira cried out.

“ _Hey Monkey,_ ” I said to her as I try to sit up straight. “ _How long was I out?”_

_“Long enough for Pops to run screaming into the house worried sick and panicking about you,”_ Felix retorted.

_“And long enough for Maman to grab her medical kit inside our car and do a quick check-up on you,”_ Lory said as he stood by the other side of the truck.

_“I was just tired – I didn’t sleep well last night,_ ” I say trying to reassure everyone that I’m fine.

“ _Can you take another long drive?_ ” Lyra asked which confused me.

“ _Huh? What do you mean another long drive? You mean to a freakin’ hospital?_ ” I asked. I don’t think I need to go to a hospital: apart from the usual aches and niggles around my joints, I feel okay - nothing a comfortable couch and a fresh joint cannot fix.

“ _Why don’t we go inside and eat some lunch first before you tell her about it?_ ” Kira said.

As we gather around the table to dig in to a simple lunch that Kira prepared, Lyra and Gabi let me in on their surprise for me. “ _No, Auntie Cosima, they’re not taking you to the hospital - unless you want to or they have to,”_ Kira said as she passes platefuls of food to everybody. “ _We asked Kira to pack a bag for you the night we had our family dinner,_ ” said Lyra as she collects a healthy portion of her lasagna on her fork.

“ _Because if you’re up for it, we would like to invite you to a road trip with us,_ ” Gabi added after drinking half her lemonade. “ _We’d like to have you visit Delphine’s ranch for just a couple of weeks,_ ” Lyra said. “ _But if a car ride would be too much for you, we can take a plane. Lory can drive the car back to Pemberton,_ ” Gabi said.

“ _Or you can go some other time...with Kira and George, and maybe also Felix?_ ” Lyra proposed as she looks at me, Kira, and the boys. “ _You can go on Thanksgiving,_ ” she added.

“ _We actually have two Thanksgivings at the ranch,”_ Gabi beamed, “ _one Canadian and one American – take your pick, Cosima. Or better yet, don’t pick and just show up for both! That would be awesome!_ ”

I look at Lory who is voraciously eating his food. “ _What do you think, Lory?”_ I asked him.

“ _I was hoping we can play a round of Playlist on the drive up north,_ ” Lory said in between bites of his garlic bread. “ _But if you need to rest now, we can go up together on October or November or both? I can swing by here from school, sleep over, and we can be on the road the next day._ ”

“ _No, no, no, I think I’m up for a drive right about now,_ ” I said, giving Lory a wink which earned me a smile.

“ _I know you’re in need of a very good distraction after what happened but are you sure you can take it, Auntie Cos?_ ” Kira said with a raised eyebrow.

“ _A very good distraction,_ ” I mumble but disagree internally. Given my age, it doesn’t come as a surprise that I have had my fair share of losses in my life, the most devastating of which before Delphine is the passing of my parents. With every gutting loss, somebody would always encourage me to either take a load off or bury myself in work – to do anything to distract me from the pain of the loss. I don’t take their suggestions against them because after all, the idea of distracting oneself from pain and heartbreak is the most logical and practical route to moving on and letting go.

But finding a distraction from the ache was never my thing. On the contrary, I certainly don’t want to be distracted from a loss, especially now that it’s Delphine who I’ve lost forever. For me, distraction connotes forgetting and I intend to carry the memory of Delphine until I take my last breath. Now more than ever, I choose to face the hurt head on, and to try to make peace with our missed chances and regrets. My insistence on going to Delphine’s ranch as soon as possible is my personal way of staring down the trauma while earning more memories of her that I could take to my grave.

“ _Yes, Kira,_ ” I said as I lay my hand on hers. “ _Don’t worry about me. And besides if anything goes south, I’m travelling with a doctor._ ” Lyra reaches out to touch my hand, “ _we’ll take good care of her, we promise._ ”

“ _Okay,_ ” Kira concedes as she pats my hand. “ _I was actually on-board with this idea until half an hour ago when we couldn’t wake you up back there in the truck._ ”

“ _Tell you what,_ ” Lyra said, “ _we can stay another day here – to rest and recharge. We can leave early morning tomorrow. How’s that sound, Kira?_ ”

“ _That sounds better,_ ” Kira said nodding her head and smiling as she spoke.

“ _But what about your big meeting in two days? You’re going to miss it,_ ” I argued.

“ _I’ll make it, Cosima. Don’t worry. We have time._ ”

It’s my turn to concede as Lyra shared her new plan, that I must admit is quite appealing not just to Kira but also to me. One more day before facing the pain and seeing Delphine’s home wouldn’t hurt. Lyra is right after all - we have time. “ _Okay, we’ll stay here for one more night – under one condition,_ ” I said earning a puzzled look from Lyra.

“ _I call shotgun._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a link to the poem “Le pont Mirabeau” by Guillaume Apollinaire - http://www.writing.upenn.edu/library/Apollinaire_Mirabeau.html 
> 
> The line "the sheep are too stupid and the horses cannot talk" is a direct quote from Transhumance (which you should read if you haven't here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794386?view_full_work=true )
> 
> This turned out to be a difficult chapter to write (probably the most difficult one among the bunch)...and I hope my difficulty and the emotional drain I felt didn’t translate that much as you read this. 
> 
> As always, I appreciate feedback so please let me know what worked and didn’t work for you. On that note, thank you very much again for your interests in this work. While I haven’t replied to any of the comments, please know that your feedback really means a lot to me. Your words push me to find the time to write and finish the story. 
> 
> There’s an epilogue that’s coming in the next week to tie up a few loose ends. As this fic ends, I want to thank tumblweed again. For years, I haven’t written anything that’s not work-related until the idea of this fic inspired by tumblweed’s work came to mind. For that and the words you shared with all of us, thank you.


	15. Epilogue

“ _Pancakes or waffles?_ ” she asked while driving and concentrating on the road ahead to the woman beside her, who’s currently feeling the cool breeze with her outstretched hand while dreamily looking out towards the wall of tall trees adorning the roadside.

“ _Neither,_ ” she said, pausing her sightseeing to gaze at her companion and answer her question.  “ _I think I’ve told you before that I prefer crepes._ ”

Her companion playfully swats the woman’s hand before holding it again to interlock their fingers together. “ _That’s not how the game works, babe,_ ” she said. “ _You have to pick one or else you don’t get to ask me a question._ ”

The woman nods and concedes an answer.  “ _Fine, pancakes, I guess,_ ” she said before lifting the hand she’s holding to give it a kiss. “ _If I make it a bit thinner than usual and put Nutella and fruits in it, I can pretend that it’s a crepe,_ ” she said with a wink as she shifts in the front seat to face her companion. “ _I’ve answered your question, is it my turn now?_ ”

“ _Your answer is barely acceptable, but okay - your turn,_ ” she said with a toothy grin.

The woman takes a good, long look at the girl in front of her and can’t help but beam at how enamored and captivated she is with her even after all these years. Just looking at her - so beautiful, so strong, so vibrant, and so full of love - is making her speechless. Her companion throws a curious look her way, clearly amused by their little game but also a little worried about the unexpected silence inside the car. “ _Go on, don’t be shy. Ask away, babe._ ”

She bites her lower lip hard before coming up with a question. Both of them know that they have a lot of catching up to do and that will obviously come with a lot of sensitive questions that they’d want to ask each other. But this is the first time in a long while that they are together when nothing else matters apart from what is happening between them - between two people in love who are genuinely enjoying each other’s company. So she decides to reserve the hard-hitting questions for later and settles for a safer question instead: “ _Among all your hairstyles, what is your favorite?_ ”

“ _The dreads,_ ” she answered in a heartbeat while drumming her fingers to the tune of a phantom song on the steering wheel. “ _I really loved them. I love the way it looked on me and I love the way it changed how people saw me. Even when it was no longer in style, I wore my hair in dreads. I really miss them actually._ ”

“ _Can I ask a follow-up question? Or do I have to answer another question to ask it?_ ” the woman said while flashing her hazel doe eyes and playfully drawing random patterns with her thumb on the palm of the hand she’s holding.

“ _For a kiss, I could let it slide,_ ” the other woman propositioned, clearly flushed with the simple forms of affection coming her way.

“ _Well if that’s the case..._ ” she said as she scoots over in the truck’s bench seats to get closer and cup her companion’s face. She plants a sweet and sincere kiss on her right cheek before asking her follow-up question: “ _If you like it so much, why did you get rid of it?_ ”

The woman savors the feeling of her lover’s soft lips on her skin, the sensation fuelling her daydreams of pulling over now to not only feel those lips all over her body, but also to return the favor to the woman who’s effortlessly making her go weak in the knees. But the longing she has for her goes beyond the physical and what they are doing right now is satiating her more pressing emotional need of having this woman beside her at all times. “ _I don’t know,”_ she answered, “ _I guess I needed a change. I was going to leave San Francisco forever so I figured that calls for a new look. This is my second favorite though,_ ” she answered while pointing to her hair and finger-combing errant strands on the side.

“ _I wish I could have played with them..._ ” the woman said, “ _with your dreads, I mean. But this,_ ” she said as she twirls the edges of her lover’s hair, “ _I love this too. It suits you._ ” She closes the distance between them by putting one arm over her shoulder and resting her right hand on the other’s thigh. She leans into her and looks to the road they are traversing on a perfect sunny day with her head on her companion’s shoulder.

The woman behind the wheel lets out a sigh of comfort. “ _I have never felt more at peace and contented,_ ” she whispers and presses a kiss on the crown of the woman’s head, getting reacquainted with the intoxicating smell of her blonde hair and the giddiness she feels when she lovingly lays her hands on her. “ _I love you,_ ” she then said, allowing the sentiment to finally be out in the open after years of trying to put it on the back burner.

At this declaration, the blonde turns to look at the woman who has momentarily shifted her attention from the road ahead to return her gaze. This all feels so familiar, as if she’s being transported back to that space and time when she first heard those words from the woman beside her - that moment when it became clear to her just how non-negotiable a life without her had become. And like the first time those words were uttered, she cannot find it in her heart to deny what she feels, to deny the other woman. “ _I love you too,_ ” she said as tears began to form in her eyes at the memory of the strong and all-consuming emotions she felt for her then – emotions that she knows she would have for the other woman now and forever and every day in between.

Just then, they’re startled by a series of loud thuds and bangs coming from underneath the car. The woman behind the wheel quickly but cautiously slams on the brakes, pulls over, and alights to check it out. As she crouches down to look under the car, the other woman discreetly gets out of the vehicle to peer back onto the roads they have passed, trying to figure out if they accidentally hit something or someone. Not seeing anything from where she’s standing, she walks considerable paces away from the car until images of unknown objects on the road became clearer.

Relieved that nothing seems to be amiss with the car, the driver stands up and dusted her hands and jeans. Her relief is short-lived though, because as soon as she pushes up her glasses she saw the empty passenger seat through the windshield. With panic suddenly running in her veins, she began to frenetically look to all possible directions where she can catch a glimpse of the blonde. “ _Fuck! This is not happening again,”_ she said anxiously, “ _I just got her back..._ ”

“ _Ma chérie! Ma chérie! I think we ran over a bunch of dried-up branches,_ ” the passenger shouted at her from a distance, her voice felt like a soothing balm for the other woman’s worries and tensions. She turns to where the voice is coming from - “ _Everything’s fine!_ ” she replied as she sees her already walking back to where the car is parked.

She couldn’t wait so the bespectacled woman runs then leaps into the arms of the other woman, locking her legs around the woman’s hips and wrapping her arms around her neck. The taller blonde woman manages to lift her and they share a pure and passionate kiss devoid of the complexities that came with their everyday lives. A few breathless minutes later, she puts her down gently with her arms around the other’s waist before leaning down to rest her forehead against hers. Both women looked into each other’s eyes with an intensity that can only be fuelled by pent-up love and yearning.

“ _I thought I lost you again back there,_ ” the shorter woman confessed.

“ _You’ve never lost me, mon amour, never..._ ” the taller woman said reassuringly as she cups the short-haired woman’s face and wipes away hot tears triggered by their short and temporary separation. “ _Come on, let’s get back on the road,_ ” she then said.  

She nods and they walk towards the truck a few meters away. “ _Where are we going again exactly? I’ve been driving for a while and I still don’t know where we’re headed..._ ”

The woman pulls her in for a shoulder hug and presses a chaste kiss on her cheek. “ _We’re almost there actually, just a few miles from here. Why don’t you let me drive ma chérie? Just for a change so you can rest for a bit?_ ”

“ _Okay,_ ” she said as she removes her glasses and cleans it with the hem of her shirt. The taller woman gets in front of the wheel and adjusts the rear view mirror as the other woman closes the door. They share one more kiss before starting the engine and eliminating all spaces between them by cuddling for the remainder of the drive.

 

\----

 

Even my science background cannot come up with an appropriate term for how my brain has turned into mush after spending the better part of the day hunched over my desk and combing through thesis proposals and initial submissions from new grad students. While I’ve overseen a few student researches in the last three years, being a full-fledged research supervisor is completely new to me. I was asked to do it just a little over a year ago when one of the department’s long-term supervisors went on sabbatical after receiving a generous grant that funded an ambitious research trip that will span at least two years.

“ _It’ll be fun they said...A glimpse into the early workings of a future scientist’s mind, they said..._ ” I murmured to myself as I begrudgingly look at the still-tall pile of papers awaiting my initial feedback. With my mind tired and my reserves of patience running on empty, I decided it was best to take a break - lest I find myself nitpicking on the smallest of details in these hapless submissions. It was past 4 p.m. after all, and the work day is almost over.

I walk towards a small makeshift coffee nook in my office and press the machine. Returning to my desk with a nice cup of black coffee, I can’t help but look at the photos on my desk – an old photo of my Maman sitting on a tree stump in the ranch; the last complete picture of my family taken during the holidays; a dated photo of Gabi and me when she received her PhD; and a photo of Lory dressed in complete cowboy garb when he was 6. Quite recently I made room for another photo on my desk – a picture taken by Gabi of Lory, me, and Cosima in pajamas as we sit huddled together on the lower bunk bed in Cosima’s cabin while looking at Maman’s photo album.

I know enough now to say that getting to know Cosima is the unexpected silver lining of Maman’s passing. When I first reached out to her, I had no expectations of starting a relationship with her that would go beyond fulfilling my Maman’s dying wish. I was glad to be wrong as I found out that it’s easy to be friends with Cosima and her family. Somehow, her gift of friendship keeps the memory of Maman more alive because an important part of her has been establishing a steady presence in our lives.

There was a knock on my office’s door as I was considering if a second cup of coffee is in the offing before I call it a day. “ _Come in, it’s open,_ ” I said as I lean into my chair. The door swings open and Enid, one of my undergrad students from last term, comes in carrying what looks like a disposable aluminium tray. “ _Good afternoon, Professor Cormier-Smith,_ ” she said.

“ _Hey Enid, what can I do for you?_ ” I said as I gesture for her to take one of the seats by my desk.

“ _Hey Professor,_ ” she said as she sets the tray on the free space on my desk. “ _I just came here to get the reference letter I requested from you for my grad school application. Is it ready?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” I said while opening one of my desk drawers to look for the document she came for. While I try to be a gracious and generous educator to all my students, I’ve always been picky and careful about giving out references and recommendations. I make sure to only give them to students who are either very good academically speaking, but are still humble enough to know that they still have so much to learn; or students who manage to surprise me during their stint in my class.

This girl right here, Enid Charlie – an affable but quiet girl from Whitehorse, The Yukon – falls under the latter. She was just an ordinary hardworking student in my Experimental Microbiology class until she surprised the hell out of me when she submitted a paper on the development and application of new computational tools for working with viral metagenomic data. Her paper was so good that it could school some of the initial proposals and submissions that I’ve been reading since this morning and that have invaded my usually-organized desk.

From then on, I took a special interest in her education and consistently encouraged her to go to graduate school after getting her degree - which is why I was quite happy when she asked me for a recommendation. “ _Ah! Here it is,_ ” I said as I hand in her reference letter in an unsealed envelope. “ _You can read it if you like,_ ” I added.    

 “ _Thank you, Professor Cormier-Smith,”_ she said. “ _Oh, I brought this for you,_ ” she said giving me the aforementioned aluminium tray containing homemade chocolate fudge. “ _Just a small thank you for everything you’ve done for me... I made it myself. Baking is how I decompress,_ ” she shared.

“ _You didn’t have to,”_ I said to Enid while receiving her gift _, “but thank you._ ” I check out the baked goods through its Saran wrap covering and exclaimed: “ _My wife is going to love these..._ ”At that, she broke out of her shell and snickered. “ _Yes, I’m sure Professor Smith is going to like it,_ ” she said. Surprised and amused at her quip, I tilt my head - “ _What makes you say that?_ ”

 “ _She was my Molecular Genetics professor a year ago,”_ Enid explained _. “I used to bring fudge for everybody in class...and Professor Smith always gets two slices instead of one,_ ” she shared amidst her re-emerging shyness. I can’t help but chuckle and say, “ _Yup that sounds like her, my wife the dessert slayer._ ” Enid politely laughs, “ _I still had some time back then to bake, Professor Cormier-Smith. I’ve been meaning to bring something to our class but all my other classes consumed what little free time I had._ ”

After engaging in some more small talks on what she’s been up to this school break and about how she’s looking for a part-time job, Enid excused herself and said goodbye while thanking me again for writing her recommendation. When she left, I took a slice of fudge - knowing full well that this is my only shot at tasting the treat since my wife will not be able to help herself from finishing the entire tray once I get it home.

With the coffee and fudge gone within minutes, I was already up from my desk and packing my things before heading out when another knock on my door interrupts me.

 

\-----

 

_"I’m sorry I panicked back there,”_ the shorter woman said as she gives the blonde a kiss on her cheek, hoping to convey that she’s feeling better and more at ease now compared to before when they just resumed their drive.

Upon hearing those words, the blonde behind the wheel (who has one arm over the other’s shoulder) strokes the shorter woman’s upper arm – a move to reassure her that everything is okay now that they’re together. “ _I was only gone for a bit, mon amour,”_ she said _. “I’m sorry if I got you worried._ ”

“ _You don’t understand,_ ” the shorter woman said as tears fall from her eyes and she fidgets in her seat, “ _I’ve seen this dream before..._ ”

The driver worriedly eyed her companion’s expressions – how her glasses have been pushed up to her forehead; how she now has both palms covering her face to mask her tears; and how her body is shaking from suppressing her sobs. “ _You’re right - I don’t understand,”_ she said, _“but will you please just talk to me ma chérie,_ ” she pleaded as she continued to drive.

The woman shifts sideways to face her as she tries to figure out how and where to start. She holds on to the driver’s free hand and said, “ _I’ve had this recurring dream for years - a dream that starts with the two of us in a truck just like this and driving just like this. We are enjoying each other’s company and then you would tell me you love me, and I’d tell you I love you back. And then something mundane happens – we hit something or something falls in front of the truck or an animal crosses the road. And then I turn to face where you are and every time, you’d be gone and I’d be alone...”_

The woman can no longer stop herself from weeping as she curls into a ball on the front seat. “ _I’ve seen this dream before, Delphine,”_ she said before gasping for a lungful of air. “ _I’ve seen it so many times that every time I wake up from it, I can taste how it ends._ ”

“ _Cosima..._ ” Delphine says, as if a quick glance and simply saying her lover’s name can soothe the other woman’s deep-seated anxieties and regrets, “ _What makes you think this is just a dream, mon amour?_ ”

Cosima holds on to Delphine’s arm a little tighter than usual while she wipes her tears with her free hand. “ _Is this real, Delphine?_ ” she calmly asked. The seemingly-composed manner in which the question was raised does not mask its heavy implication, and because of this Delphine could not think of anything else to do but to stop the car on the side of the road and give Cosima her full attention.

Turning the engine off, Delphine wasted no time in gently cupping Cosima’s face in her hands to kiss her urgently, biting her lip then soothing it with her tongue. “ _Did you feel that?_ ” Delphine asks as she continues to lean in so their foreheads rest against each other. Cosima can only nod and continue to hold Delphine tight, making it a point to avoid looking into her lover’s eyes - years of subconscious imagery having taught her that all these would float away if she lets her go or if she finds herself getting lost in Delphine’s gaze.

Sensing her long-lost love’s hesitation Delphine takes a hold of Cosima’s hands. She places them on her chest as her own hands clutch over them. “ _Do you feel this?_ ” she asks - her voice quivering and giving way for her strong yearning for Cosima to seep in to the surface.

All it took for Cosima to throw caution to the wind was to hear the heartbreaking timbre of Delphine’s voice. Forgetting about the memories of her recurring nightmare, she looked into hazel eyes and says “ _Yes. Yes,_ ” before coming in for another kiss, deeper than but equally as meaningful as their earlier kisses. A kiss meant to comfort the blonde, a reminder that she’s no longer alone in this.

Delphine wraps Cosima in a tight embrace, relishing the feeling of her lover’s breath on her neck.  “ _If you feel it,_ ” she says, “ _then it’s real. For the first time, nothing else matters but what we feel. Nothing else matters but this, but us._ ” They held on to each other for a while, both of them thinking that this is how their lives should have played out.  

“ _Are you still here with me?_ ” Cosima asked as Delphine notices that the other woman has her eyes closed as they face each other again.

“ _Oui, mon amour, I’m here,”_ she said before kissing Cosima on her forehead. “ _I will never leave you now._ ”

“ _Then let’s keep driving,_ ” Cosima said, reaching out to hold Delphine’s hands. “ _I want to see where we’re going._ ”

“ _We’re close actually,_ ” Delphine says as she scans the surrounding areas where she parked the truck. “ _Come on, walk with me,_ ” as she pulls in Cosima towards her while opening the driver side door so they can get out of the car without letting go of each other’s hand.    

 

\-----

 

I’m already up from my chair so I didn’t bother asking who’s at the door and just went to open it. “ _Hey, did you forget something?_ ” I casually said to a returning Enid.

She reaches inside her handbag to grab the recommendation letter I just gave her. “ _Sorry to bother you again, Professor Cormier-Smith, but I took a peek at your reference form and noticed that you missed something,_ ” she said. I move back to my office desk and Enid follows me to sit on one of the chairs.

“ _Oh, did I forget to sign it?_ ”

“ _No, it’s not that, Professor. You just forgot to put in the date beside your signature,_ ” she said as she pointed out the missing information in the reference form.

“ _Ah, I’m sorry about that. I’ll just put in today’s date if that’s okay. I’ve had a long day and I can’t remember when exactly I filled it out._ ” Erin nods as I get the form back to write in today’s date – September 8, 2017.

“ _Alright, here it is,_ ” I said and she says goodbye again but not before I praise the wonderful chocolate fudge she brought for me. She gives me a shy smile as she leaves my office.

I let out a sigh and run my fingers through my hair before getting back to gathering my things. I was looking for my cellphone when my office telephone rang. “ _Merde, what now..._ ” I said underneath my breath, dreading that the phone call is a last-minute invite to a random emergency department meeting.

“ _Hello?_ ” I said.

“ _Lyra?_ ” the voice on the other line asked.

“ _Yes. Kira? How did you get this number?_ ”

“ _Lyra..._ ” Kira said, “ _I’ve been trying to call you on your cellphone for a while now. I managed to get a hold of Gabi and she gave me this number._ ” 

I cradled the telephone to my ear while I rummaged around my drawers to look for my cell. When that didn’t yield anything, I looked for it on my messy desk, recalling how I put it in silent mode and then placed it somewhere in the middle of the stacks of research submissions. I finally found it after moving some of the piles of papers to the side, and sure enough there were several missed calls and texts – three or four are from Gabi telling me that I should call Kira right now and that she’s on the way to my office from a class she’s wrapping up a couple of buildings away.

“ _Lyra? Are you there?_ ” Kira said when I failed to respond. “ _Oui, yes. Sorry Kira, my phone was on silent, and I was working too much and didn’t notice it. Is there something wrong?_ ”

It was Kira’s turn to be silent. I hear nothing but her heavy sighs on the other end of the line.

“ _Kira?_ ” I asked again.

Her answer came in the form of a stifled cry. I knew what she was going to tell me even before she said it. “ _It’s Auntie Cosima...”_ Kira managed to utter despite her sobs.

I clutch my chest and I feel the tears beginning to form and trickle. “ _When...How...._ ” was all the reply I could say to what Kira is trying to tell me.

“ _Just this afternoon,”_ Kira said, _“she took a nap and then she just didn’t...Oh God. How fast can you get here, Lyra?_ ”

“ _We’ll be there by tomorrow. Gabi and I will work out our travel arrangements and text them to you._ ”

After exchanging a few more words amidst our tears and quivers, I put down the phone and look at my watch. Gabi’s class is ending in 15 minutes and she’d be here pretty soon. Lory probably already knows about Cosima since he and Andi are visiting Felix and Colin in Savannah before he starts his post-grad in Chicago in a couple of weeks.

I make the second cup of coffee I never thought I would need as I send Lory and Gabi separate texts. While waiting for their replies, I re-open my laptop to fill-out and send an Emergency Leave form to our department’s human resources. Under “Reason for Leave”, I ticked on the box beside the “Death in the Family” option, not being able to help myself from feeling the sadness of how unfair this situation is.

“ _We just got her into our lives,_ ” I uttered to myself while sending the form with hands that I noticed are shaking in grief.

I swivelled my chair to turn my back on my desk and face the lone window of my office. Outside, I see a handful of students hanging out in the grassy knoll near the building. I continued looking out to nothing in particular, until my mind began playing tricks on me by showing me a vision of a younger Cosima and a younger Maman laying on a meadow with not a single care in the world. I don’t know whether to smile or cry at that image.

“ _Réunis enfin._ _Réunis pour toujours_ ,” I whispered as I hear the door knob turn before Gabi enters my office and hugs me from behind, a sad smile forming on my face.  

 

\-----

 

Delphine and Cosima walk hand-in-hand, exchanging loving glances with every step they took and getting caught up in the moment of finally having the one you’re supposed to be with next to you –as it should have been in the first place had love alone been enough.  Under the bluest sky, they walk a little bit farther away from the truck until they reach a break in the sea of trees. “ _Over here, ma chérie,_ ” Delphine said as she tugs Cosima towards a meadow nestled among tall Lodgepole Pine trees.

As they walk further into the fields of green, a gentle breeze blows making the long grass dance peacefully and giving the air a sweet, refreshing, and comforting scent. Cosima could only smile when she sees a patch of dandelions in the middle of the field - its seeds are being softly swept away by the same breeze that’s making the grass sway in glee.

She looks at Delphine - who has the most tranquil look on her beautiful face, as she pointed to the dandelions and said: “ _I’ve drawn my fair share of dandelions in my life.”_ Although Cosima’s musings were received with kind and happy eyes, they were also accompanied by a wrinkled nose and creased eyebrows.

“ _Remember the day I asked when your birthday was?_ ” she said.

“ _Oui,”_ Delphine said with a nod, _“it was during our early days in the cabin._ ” Cosima then proceeds to sit on the ground, urging Delphine to do the same and to lean into her so they’re back to front. Not long after, the couple is sitting close with Cosima wrapping her arms around Delphine while their hands are clasped together, the swaying green grass providing the perfect cocoon for their inevitable reunion.

“ _The moment you told me when it was – December 21 st – I made a silent request with destiny for me to be around you when that day comes around. Even though I was trying to deny my feelings for you at first - convincing myself that you would never reciprocate them anyway, I wanted that day to be in my future._”

Delphine has a hand over her mouth as she gets enraptured by Cosima’s story. “ _I wanted March 9 th to be in my sights too..._” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes before Cosima comes in to kiss the path of her tears on her delicate face.

“ _Eventually,_ ” Cosima said, “ _I stopped asking to be around you on December 21 st – I just settled to be around whenever that date comes so that I can remember you on your birthday by drawing a dandelion. Sometimes I keep the drawing and sometimes I erase them, but the dandelion sketch that Lyra saw in the farm house was actually the first one I made - Dandelion, December 21, 1957.” _

At the mention of her daughter, Delphine can’t help but glow. “ _You’ve met my Lyra,_ ” she said with a smile – the smile growing wider as Cosima nods and beams while sharing how she has become rather close with her, Lory, and Gabi in the relatively short time they’d known each other.

“ _But why a dandelion, mon amour?_ ” Delphine asked.

_“Because dandelions are known for granting wishes,”_ Cosima said. “ _I drew it so I can have a wish – a wish for you to be okay and happy wherever you are; or a wish for us to have a chance to be together someday. There’s also this belief that dandelion seeds have the ability to carry your thoughts and dreams to the people you love. So I drew them, hoping you would know that you’re always with me in some form or another. I know it’s stupid..._ ” 

“ _Not stupid,_ ” Delphine protested, interrupting Cosima by facing her and leaning in for a kiss designed to take one’s breath away. As the kiss becomes more torrid and passionate, the brunette suddenly lets go of Delphine’s hands so she can tug at the hem of her lover’s cream-colored sweater.

“ _Can I?_ ” she said, asking permission to lift the sweater. Delphine nods and holds her breath, waiting for the sensation she longed craved - the sensation that she chooses to remember on nights alone when she comes undone sadly only by her own fingers. With Delphine’s bare back exposed to her for the first time in a long time, Cosima follows the pattern of the freckles with her eyes before tracing them with her lips and tongue.

“ _Oh, how I missed you, Delphine,_ ” Cosima murmurs as her lips hovers and coasts from one beauty mark to another. “ _Me too_ , _Cosima,_ ” she replies as she melts into the touch. Cosima then gives one final kiss on where Orion’s right shoulder should have been before fixing the sweater back and nuzzling her lover’s neck.

“ _I believe it’s my turn,_ ” Cosima said while she basks in the familiar bliss of her love for the other woman by pressing a kiss on her nape, “ _to ask a question._ ” Delphine nods and says: “ _What is it ma chérie?_ ”

Cosima moves from where she’s sitting so she can be face-to-face with Delphine. “ _Do you believe that what we have is love?”_ she asked, her voice taking on a more serious tone. _“I mean it happened pretty fast, didn’t it? Sometimes, when I am alone and I can’t stop thinking about you, I try to rationalize us...and it doesn’t make sense - how fast I fell for you and you for me._ ” At the question, Delphine looks into her lover’s caramel eyes, trying to figure out the best answer for it.

She decided to answer it with the truth.

“ _I know what you mean, mon amour,_ ” she said. “ _We tend to doubt when things happen too quickly like a whirlwind. Maybe because things usually leave the way they come – if something happens quickly, it goes away quickly as well. Does that make sense?_ ”

Cosima nods and waits for Delphine to make her point. “ _But with us,_ ” she said as her hands go back and forth between them, “ _I’d like to think that the speed of how we – how us happened is just the universe making up for the borrowed time and the few chances that it managed to give us._ ”

She runs her fingers on Cosima’s cheeks, and looks into her eyes to gauge if she’s getting her thoughts across. “ _And for what it’s worth, ma chérie, it’s a whirlwind I wouldn’t mind being in – a whirlwind I’ve waited to ride again regardless of the vertigo and whiplash that we had to endure in all the years we were apart._ ” Delphine then leans in, planting chaste kisses all over Cosima’s face before offering her hands to her. “ _If this isn’t love, Cosima, then I don’t know what is._ ”  

With the sun setting on the horizon, Cosima accepts the hands that are offered for her to hold. She presses her lips on every finger, on the palms, and on the pulse points. “ _Let’s ride the whirlwind together, Delphine,_ ” she said. “ _Let’s ride it over and over again._ ”

Delphine smiles while she cries happy tears. “ _Yes, mon amour. We have all kinds of time now._ ”

“ _I love you,_ ” Cosima said.

“ _Je t'aime,_ ” Delphine replies.

It’s never too late for the universe to correct its course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: The other version of this story is already up. Give it a read here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055883 Thanks :)
> 
> I think that this may be the most polarizing chapter that I wrote for this fic...so, on a scale of 1 to 5 (with 5 being the highest), how much do you hate me for what I did to this story? Please let me know what worked for you and what didn’t . I am sorry, but I’ll make it up by trying to keep my promise of churning out feel-good, slice-of-life cophine fics from here on in. I already have some ideas in my head and hopefully I can find the time to write them and share it here. The next fic after this is the happier iteration of this story – a shorter fic compared to this one (which turned out to be longer than I planned). There’s another idea in the offing (an AU), but I have to get that story threshed out first.
> 
> Once again, my biggest thank you to all who’s reading and sticking to this story. I wrote this fic as a way to dip into writing again after having some sort of crisis of faith many years ago, which made writing more of a chore than a joy for me. I am not sure if I’d be able to finish this story if not for your comments, encouragements, and feedback. Thank you!
> 
> And of course, a special mention and thanks to tumblweed for writing the story that inspired this. I may never know you but I hope that you’re well and still writing. Please know that you and your words matter. :)


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